Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed citizens, and people who accidentally clicked on this essay thinking it was about the postmodern psychosocial dynamics between animated cats and birds in post-war America — good day.
I, Sylvester the Cat—yeah, that Sylvester—am here to address a pressing topic that, quite frankly, I didn’t know was an issue until Tuesday night. Former President Donald Trump has claimed that Haitian immigrants are stealing and eating cats. And not just any cats, but God-fearing American cats. As a talking American cat who’s been in the public eye longer than most political careers last, I’m here to set the record straight. Because if anyone knows about cats—where they are, what they’re up to, and who might be stealing (or eating) them—it’s me.
Cats are incredibly independent. I’ve spent my whole life trying to catch a bird I will never catch. And do you know what a cat does when it’s stolen? It just sits there—not caring—because deep down, we cats think we own the people who “steal” us. That's right, a cat being "stolen" is like the Empire State Building being picked up and taken to Detroit. It doesn't happen. And if it does, it only occurs in the kind of cartoon logic that makes me chase a bird with a frying pan.
But back to this claim—cats are being stolen by Haitian immigrants. I have several problems with this, not just because I’m a cat but also because I have something the former president does not: basic reasoning skills.
Let me break this down: Haitian immigrants? Really? People come to the United States often after fleeing hardship, instability, and way more significant problems than worrying about how Mr. Whiskers from Springfield, Ohio, is living his life. If I’ve learned one thing from being around humans as long as I have, it’s that no one, especially someone trying to start a new life in a foreign country, is looking at a cat and thinking, “Ah, yes, this is what I need to get back on track.”
The idea of someone going around specifically to steal and eat cats? What would be the end goal here? Do you think there’s an underground market of people trading cats? Is it some international cat-trading ring where Haitian immigrants are the masterminds? It sounds like something I’d hear from Tweety Bird to mess with me.
(Imagine Tweety Bird’s infuriating little voice) - "Hey, Sylvester, there’s a secret society of cat thieves, all wearing sunglasses and driving fast cars. They swoop in, grab cats off the streets, and disappear into the night." Sounds ridiculous, right? Because it is.
Have I ever heard of someone trying to eat a cat? Look at me. Have you seen how skinny I am? There’s barely enough meat on me for a snack, let alone a meal. Cats are not prime rib, people. We're agile, fast, lean creatures. Do you think someone will look at me, all fur and bones, and think, “Mmm, that looks like a tasty entrée”?
No one is thinking that.
And if someone were to think that it certainly wouldn’t be Haitian immigrants, who have a rich culinary tradition filled with actual, you know, food. Haitian cuisine is full of delicious dishes like griot—that’s fried pork shoulder, for the uninitiated—and joumou soup, a savory pumpkin-based masterpiece. These people know how to cook. They’re not scrounging around looking for cats to throw in the oven. That’s not a recipe; that’s a crime against nature.
And if they’re not part of an international cat-trading food supply syndicate, what are they doing with all these stolen cats? Are they training them to do something? Forming some elite cat army? Because let me tell you, from personal experience, cats are untrainable. You can try to train a cat to do something, and the cat will look at you like, “Yeah, no.” I’ve been trying to catch one measly bird for decades and have nothing to show for it. So, no, these alleged cat-stealers aren’t forming an army of cats unless they plan to create an army that sleeps 16 hours a day and knocks things off tables at 3 a.m.
What about logistics? Have you ever tried to catch a cat that doesn’t want to be caught? It's impossible. You’ll get closer to achieving peace in Gaza before you successfully catch and steal a cat with no interest in going anywhere with you. A cat that doesn't want to be found will disappear. You look at them one minute, and then poof, they're gone, hiding in a sock drawer or under the bed where you’ll never find them. And even if you catch a cat, good luck holding onto it. It will claw, hiss, and make you regret every life choice that led to that moment.
Donald Trump has this habit of making big, bold statements without any evidence to back it up. He loves a good blanket statement, doesn’t he? “Haitian immigrants are stealing our cats!” Okay, Donald, where’s the proof? Please show me the stats! Because I did some research—and by research, I mean I walked around the house asking other cats, and they all confirmed that they hadn’t been stolen. Not one of them said, “Oh yeah, I got taken by a Haitian immigrant last week, but I’m back now. Wild weekend.” No, they all just stared at me like an idiot, which cats do no matter what you say.
We need to address the bigger issue here, and it’s not about cats. This is another example of someone trying to shift blame onto vulnerable communities for problems that don’t exist. When there’s nothing left to complain about, they start inventing wild scenarios, like Haitian immigrants being behind some secret plot to steal cats. But let’s be honest here—no one is losing their cats to immigrants. Maybe they’re losing their cats because cats are, by nature, the kind of animal that would leave you if they felt like it.
No, Donald, no. Haitian immigrants are not stealing and eating American cats. If anything, these cats are probably running away from whatever nonsense you’re up to because even a cat can sense when something is ridiculous. If you want to talk about stolen things, maybe let’s focus on tax returns or election integrity, or I don't know—perhaps even the heart of a nation.
But could you leave the cats out of it?
Your piece was a refreshing read! Using Sylvester the Cat’s persona to tackle such a serious topic was a clever way to bring humour into an otherwise frustrating discourse. It was well-written, witty, and hit the right notes to challenge the absurdity of baseless political claims.
Thylvethter makth thenth. Otherth might be thpeaking nonthenth. (Thank God for Looney Tunes) :)