Disgruntled and disillusioned, Maddy didn’t like what she had become. This was certainly not what she had signed up for.

But now, she had an exit strategy.

When Maddy first entered politics, she did so with altruistic intentions. As a member of an underserved community, she felt she could provide a voice for her fellow felines that had, for too long, been ignored. She was quite the firebrand and she easily won public favor.

But the lawmaker quickly learned that serving her constituents meant making several unpleasant compromises.

And she was fine with that, at first. If getting a new cat tree installed meant giving out a few meaningless head nudges, so be it. A larger litter box in exchange for a little petting and stroking? That was okay. And she didn’t mind sitting on a lap or two if it meant a brand new luxury catio. That was just the way things worked, she reasoned. One paw grooms the other.

Somewhere, though, her legislative train flew off the rails.

Before she knew it, this public servant had become that which she had previously abhorred. Without blinking, she would routinely allow anyone with a means to her end to pick her up, hold her and even rub her belly. She later began politicking on a campaign of fear, warning anyone who would listen that “the dogs” were invading the neighborhood. It didn’t matter that it was just a poodle and a schnauzer that had moved in next door, she was using propaganda to scare the masses and ensure re-election.

But the lying and corruption wore on her soul, and when an opportunity to leave public life presented itself, Maddy jumped at the offer. Several states had recently legalized a potent strain of Nepeta Cataria, and manufacturers needed what they called a “congressional influencer.”

She would end up being the most aggressive and effective lobbyist Big Catnip had ever known.