We cats are wondering if July 25 will someday be designated as an important national holiday. Because that's the date of the now-infamous phoner between Benedict Donald and Ukrainian President Zelensky. It now could become the day on which we formally observe the preservation of our democracy. Or the preservation of, as Benjamin Franklin said, "a republic — if you can keep it."
But that's only because of history's most famous whistleblower. If it weren't for him (and we think it's a him), we wouldn't know anything about that phone call or the Trumpsters' concerted campaign to get the newly elected government of Ukraine to "play ball" on Vladimir Putin's cherished goal: Blaming Ukraine for interference in the 2016 US election, instead of Russia.
Putin, who has already invaded and annexed part of Ukraine, wants Ukraine to be the bad guy. And in pressuring Zelensky not just to investigate Joe Biden but to perpetuate a baseless conspiracy theory about who was really responsible for 2016, Benedict Donald is obviously doing the bidding of Vlad.
At the beginning of July, The New Yorker published a way-too-long article (is there any other kind?) about Hunter Biden, and whether his life story was going to endanger his father's Presidential hopes. Knowing that Hunter is the wayward Biden child — unlike Beau, who was the straight-arrow star — we cats saw that story and said to ourselves, Oh, God, here we go. But we were wrong. Now we thank God that Hunter had business in Ukraine. Because if he hadn't, Benedict Donald would never have gone down this impeachable path. We cats PURR.
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