Auld Lang Syne
“A New Year’s resolution is something that goes in one year and out the other.” – Oscar Wilde
Congratulations. We’re halfway through January and some of you have stayed true to your New Year’s resolutions. But what happens if your goals are sabotaged by your cat?
We’re not talking about your feline sitting on your chest as an excuse to not get up and do some calisthenics. We mean your cat is actively wrecking your plans for self-improvement.
A 4-year-old tuxedo cat named Novo decided that her owner’s resolutions, which included improving her physical fitness, lowering her sugar intake, and listening to more podcasts, among several other objectives, were not going to happen.
A video posted on TikTok by Novo’s owner, Lara, 28, showed her pet erasing her written goals off a whiteboard.
Novo was furiously rubbing away one column of resolutions when he started to shift toward the next, which included, “Save £30k [pounds], Date night x1 per month and Travel somewhere new.”
I showed the video to our cat Chester to get his reaction.
“This second column is a crucial clue as to why Novo is saying no-go to Lara,” Chester said as he studied the posting as if he were a crime scene investigator studying the Zapruder film.
“How so?” I asked.
“You see, all of Lara’s resolutions were about her and not Novo,” Chester deduced.
“No self-respecting cat would ever allow their human to achieve such diabolical plans when they’re cut out of the benefits.”
“Explain,” I asked.
And so my Aristotle of a cat did just that.
“Travel? Where are we going?
“Save money? You’re doing that of course to buy me more goodies. Aren’t you?
“Date night? I hope you mean we’re double-dating and you’ve set me up with a fine queen. If yes, why keep it to just once a month? If not, you can go back to playing Cinderella before Prince Charming shows up. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t show.”
“That’s harsh,” I said.
“Harsh!?,” Chester yelled. “Harsh is when none of your New Year’s fantasies aren’t about us cats!
“How can any decent person make all their resolutions about themselves and not about us cute, cuddly, adorable and intellectually superior beings?”
“You forgot you’re also narcissistic, egotistical, arrogant and self-absorbed, among other qualities,” I volunteered.
“Those sound important,” Chester said with pride, “So, I agree with that.
“By the way, Baby New Year. Do you have any resolutions?”
“Just to keep me on your good side,” I deadpanned.
“You’re not as dumb as you look,” Chester chortled.
“And what about you? What New Year’s resolutions have you made?”
“I don’t need to make New Year’s resolutions,” Chester said sternly. “What I do all the time doesn’t need any improvement.”
“Remind me. What do you do?”
“I sleep, eat, drink, watch TV, invest online and sleep some more. How can you improve on that?” Chester beamed.
“How are your investments doing, my furry Warren Buffett?”
“Silver! I told you to buy silver,” Chester said excitedly. “It’s up 140% in the last year!”
“And what do you plan to do with your newly acquired wealth?”
“First, I’m going to peruse CatMatch for some queens. Then I’m booking a flight to Cabo for me and my ladies. Finally, I’m spending all my profits on kibble delicacies and tuna juice cocktails with my new friends as we chill on the beach.”
“Sounds like paradise,” I said.
“I told you, silver,” Chester scolded. “I should be on CNBC and replace that Jim Cramer guy.”
“Next year I’ll make a resolution to listen to some of your predictions,” I said.
“Some?” Chester stammered as he almost coughed up a furball.
“How can you say some? I nailed silver.”
“You did, but…”
“But what?”
“You predicted the Lions would win the Super Bowl.”
“I like teams with cat names. Besides, they won 15 games in 2024. How was I supposed to know Ragnow would retire and they’d let Zeitler go in free agency?”
“You said Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce wouldn’t get engaged.”
“I thought a super star singer would marry a quarterback,” Chester groaned. “But I guess it makes sense, he has a tight end.”
“He is a tight end. That’s his position in football. I don’t know if he has a tight end.”
“I thought I read he does, in Pro-Football Reference,” Chester said meekly.
“And you said President Trump would rename the Kennedy Center after you.”
“He said he loves the musical Cats. I figured he couldn’t resist ‘The Chester A. Cat and the John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts’. What better place could you have for Cats to play at?
“I could never imagine him naming the place after himself. He doesn’t seem like that type of guy.”
“You really don’t pay attention, do you?”
“I was dumbfounded.”
“Stick to predicting silver.
“And a belated Happy New Year to you, Chester.”
The Chester Chronicles 