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For fans of political prefalls – or it should be this precipitation – Scottish politics has been a pleasure this week. John Swinney, the first minister of the Scottish National National Party, withdrew in a distant attempt to kill a news story that is likely to alienate a large number of voters in a nation fixed by pets: that he is ready declare war on cat ownership.
Moggie Ban Scare Springs by one of the proposals in a report to the Scottish government by his independent animal welfare advisers. The authors of the report are concerned about the number of deaths of other creatures in hand, or in the paw, household lines – especially birds. But as the story rose, the recommendations to consider the “control” of cats in some rural areas – perhaps inside a caterpillar – had become a plot for the government to take on Caledonian cat lovers and their pets massively.
An increasingly wild swinney, wherever he went and whatever real -life policy he was there to promote: Will you remove Tiddles?
It’S’S a strange adjustment for the SNP leader to be found inside. Whenever she tries to destroy the cat’s question, she attracts the attention of the most anxious fans: is she there, despite his words, a danger to their beloved animals? Occasionally its form of words- “no intention to limit cat ownership”- sounds in cynical ear as what is known in politics as a “non-Mohnive denial”. So far everyone knows that “no plan for him” is a code for “we haven’t just written it and still acted”.
To the barricades! Book cat food and cat turkeys! And I have to declare an interest here as an eternal cat lover-and, along with the other 4MN, as a follower of the follower account, so I will draw in my claws).
But I see this convincing story as a comic example of one of the most powerful disasters a politician can happen – getting stuck in a puncture of unconvincing rebellions for the topics that hurt you.
Echo loudly has returned to Lyndon Johnson’s machinations and his method to see a rival in the 1948 race for Senate – Retold best by Hunter S Thompson by writing about Dirty Tricks’ campaigns. Apocrif or not, history goes by that the LBJ insisted that his aides spread the rumors that this man, a pork farmer, had “routine knowledge of the meat of his planting”. They objected to being untrue, only for their boss to produce a response that became axiomatic for the campaigns: “Let’s make it bastard to deny it.”
This was Trumpian in front of the paper – Think about “they are eating dogs.. They are eating cats” in the 2024 presidential debate with Kamala Harris, staining immigrants in the city of Ohio of Springfield.
Of course, concerns about the slaughter of the wild life raised by the Swinney advisory panel will not leave. Household cats are efficient predators-my mother-in-law had a container known as “dead bird’s baganda”. We adopted our two moggies to hold down a bunch of rampant mice. Humphrey, a cabinet -based government cat in 1989, was accused of “killing” some Robins Baby – but his honor was strongly protected by civil servants.
The writings of this “scandal” are just as cutesy and Fey as the coincidence that surrounds Larry, the current Felin of Downing Street. It can be enough to turn you against cat fans, if not the animals themselves. Then again, Larry’s photographs are a healthy export industry for the UK. Perhaps Swinney should have a mouse match in its official Bute House residence, not just to calm the doubts raised in recent days. And moreover, it would be safe by Trump 2.0 – you can’t hit a Twee fee.
miranda.green@ft.com
