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Monday, November 27, 2006
With the Great Vancouver Blizzard of 2006 here, Ivan the Cat has forsaken his lust for outdoor jaunts. In a rare interview with this feline who zealously guards his privacy, Ivan explains what led him to turn his back on friends for a warm place on a woolly blanket.
Maktaaq: Mr. Ivan, first off I want to thank you very much for honouring us with your time.
Ivan: Gratitude accepted.
Maktaaq: Your newfound love of the indoors is making headlines. Witnesses claim that you no longer pace by the door meowing annoyingly - what has led to your sudden interest in the indoors?
Ivan: It all started yesterday. I meowed at my servants frequently and with increasing urgency at higher and higher amplitude. Finally they turned that bulbous projection on the portal to the Great Outdoors (your so-called "door") and let me out. I had a good time as usual. Beating up the Tuxedo Cat. Traipsing on roofs. Exploring the woods. Playing with my life on the road. After ten minutes, I realized I was hungry. So I returned to the portal. No one heard my scratches on the portal. Mildly worried, I went to the front of my domicile. Still no answer at that portal. It was then that I saw the thunder carriage disappeared. I must have ordered the servants to bring me more Friskies Tuna & Salmon Treats. They usually took the thunder carriage on their missions. I sat down to await their return. I waited for hours, as the morning ebbed into afternoon and then into evening. Evening brought with it the snow.
Maktaaq: What were you thinking during all this?
Ivan: Those hairless ape bastards have forsaken me for a new cat. I vowed to smite them.
Maktaaq: It must have been very traumatic.
Ivan: It was. But the worst was yet to come. Weakened with hypothermia and frostbite, I was about to throw a brick through the clear brittle walls (these appear at intervals along the outside of my domicile), when my servants returned. The next morning, I meowed at the servants for the turning of the bulbous portal projection. They complied; imagine my shock when they opened the portal to reveal a white void.
Maktaaq: What was it?
Ivan: A practical joke, that's what. The primate imbeciles had blanched the landscape. I was not, needless to add, amused. I pouted pointedly at the servants. Certain that they felt the sting of my displeasure, I decided to give them time to put everything right again by taking my early morning nap.
Maktaaq: And this is what led you to take interest in the indoors?
Ivan: No. My ordeal was not yet over.
Maktaaq: What happened?
Ivan: The servants - insolent monsters! - called me with smiles to the portal. False Judases! Suddenly I found myself raised in the air - for a moment of exultation I thought they were holding me up for the admiring crowds outside. They opened the portal and I found myself airborne with nothing but the abyss below me.
Maktaaq: Yet you survived.
Ivan: The impact nearly extinguished life from this soul. I felt as though I had been plunged into a fire. The cold burned. The delicate pads of my feet cracked like porcelain on concrete.
Maktaaq: It is understandable that you no longer go outdoors.
Ivan: I have since grown to love the fresh scent of newly laundered linens. Whereas once my greatest pleasure was fertilizing the earth with my life-giving turds, I now spread my message of life through missives on white cashmere cardigans.
Maktaaq: Thank you for your time and for reliving your harrowing struggle for survival.
Ivan: Worship me, mortal.
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