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Alex McRae
It's an adoption thing. My heart melted like a globally-warmed glacier this week when I read you had traveled all the way to Vietnam to adopt another third-world child. According to press reports, the latest addition to your flock is a three-year-old boy who was abandoned as a baby. I can't wait until he flies home on your private jet to meet your other kids. I bet the little Vietnamese fellow will be a great playmate for Maddox, your five-year-old Cambodian child. And you just know he's gonna fall in love (not that way) with two-year-old Zahara, the Ethiopian girl you collected a year or so ago. By the way, I don't mean to sound like adoption is your only interest. No one was prouder than I when you took time out from orphan-shopping last summer to have an illegitimate child of your own with boyfriend Brad Pitt. But there I go again. The fact is, your willingness to adopt one person of virtually every race, creed and color in the world proves you are devoted to the cause of diversity. Which brings up two questions. 1. Why stop at humans? 2. Could you use a couple of cats? After 10 years under my roof(s) I'm thinking it's time for my kitties, George and Tammy, to move on to another home. Don't get me wrong. They're happy, or at least as happy as cats get. But I must face the fact that if I really love them I should offer them to someone who can do more for them. Right now I can't afford designer cat food and they're forced to use bargain basement plastic litter boxes. They don't even have a scratching post or one of those little kittie condos. They need so much more. Angie, you can provide it. Don't do it for me. Do it for your kids. Think how much fun they'll have playing with a pair of soft, silky semi-frisky kitties. And I'm offering mine free of charge. There's just one condition: No returns. They're not perfect, but then who is. Their little personalities are wonderful, but their personalities are the only thing about them you could call small. In other words, Angie, they have "weight issues." I myself don't consider 25 pounds heavy, but some people say it's a bunch for a cat. I tried several times to cut back on food. The whining was so bad I gave in and fed them to save my sanity. But what they need more than food is money. Yours. I know my cats could overcome their weight problem if they went to rehab and got on a special diet and exercise program. I can't afford it, Angie. You can. And don't worry, they meet your diversity criteria. I have evidence their mama was a Hispanic cat named Nola and I know for sure George gets a tear in his eye when he sees Taco Bell commercials on TV. Last year I caught Tammy whining to the tune of "La Cucaracha." They're poor, they're of foreign ancestry and they deserve the best. Aside from being human, they're perfect for you. So please, Angie, think it over. And think fast. I'm down to my last few scoops of food and litter and the sooner you collect my cats the better off I, uh, I mean they, will be. Can't wait to hear from you. Meanwhile, congratulations again and give Brad my best. Sincerely, Your friend,
Alex
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