A worthy rerun:
On July 3rd, the day before America’s birthday, our own Freedom Fairy posted the above header of George Washington crossing the Delaware. Lo and Behold, there was our own Moderator Kitteh Bill on that boat, right there in the arms of The Man Himself! Father of our country! Kitteh of our country!
Bill! we gasped! It’s Bill! How did Bill get there! Look, Bill was There! Bill fought for our country! Bill knew George, and I don’t mean Bush! The Real George! And how Dapper he was on that boat! Our Bill, Kitteh of our Country!
After our initial excitement at seeing our own Bill in that portrait, we were a bit flummoxed, of course. I mean, Bill would have to be seriously old in the triple digits if that was him. Not that Bill isn’t capable of just about anything, as you who have been spammed deliberately can attest. But, I mean, even the best of us have only seen our cats hit the early 20s. We knew Bill was special, but come on!
To the rescue, our own blog historian, the immortal and inimitable Revolutionary War Vet, who has been simply Everywhere, clarified the portrait for us:
Happy Fourth of July weekend to all the citizens of Uppityville!
Now, since I was actually on that boat when we crossed the Delaware on that cold, blustery Christmas night in 1776, please allow me to clarify…
See, it was in fact one of MK Bill’s ancestors who made the trip with us. He shared the same name, but the Continental Army knew him by the more proper, William. He carried the rank of Sergeant, and was assigned to the Quartermaster Department. There really wasn’t anything to the job, since we never had much food to eat. But Sergeant William always did his best for us. Once, he even offered to share with me a scrawny mouse he had caught, but I decided against it, and ate my left shoe instead. Anyway, we all loved Sergeant William.
Now, that night, General Washington was very reluctant to permit Sergeant William to make the crossing. But, at the last moment, as the boat was shoving off, William jumped aboard and into the arms of the General. What could Washington do? So, he just tucked William tight, as we rowed and poled our way to the Jersey shore.
We were headed for Trenton, of course. Where the Hessians had about 1000 men posted in the town.
Well, after a long march with bloody feet (and paws), we finally made it to Trenton. We attacked just after daylight. All was confusion, as we stormed into the streets from every direction. Sergeant William headed straight for the Commander’s headquarters. Truth be told, since he knew full well that the officers always ate better than enlisted men, William thought he might find some tasty leftovers there. He was always a sucker for German food, particularly Wiener Schnitzel.
Now, just as William made his way into the headquarters, Colonel Rall, the Hessian Commander, was stumbling out of bed, trying to get his uniform on, sensing that the cannon fire outside his window meant a surprise attack was well underway. And it was here that Sergeant William performed the heroic act that we all remembered him for afterward.
William bit into the ankle of Colonel Rall. Hard. There was blood.
So disoriented was Colonel Rall that, by the time he reached the street, half-dressed with bleeding leg, he never saw the Patriot soldier that fired the bullet that left him fatally wounded. And, seeing their Commanding officer shot down, the rest of the Hessians quickly surrendered. It was a glorious victory! And for his part…
General George Washington himself honored Sergeant William with a medal:
The Order of the Catnip.
It was, to my knowledge, the first and only time that decoration was bestowed.
Well, after the War, I lost touch with Sergeant William. But I heard that he met a sassy Long Island feline named Katrina, who most people called Kittie. (But, for some reason, she always preferred to spell it, Kitteh.) So, William and Kittie settled on a farm in the Hudson Valley of Upstate New York, and lived a long and very quiet and serene life; while proceeding to give birth to many healthy litters, the present living descendant of which is – our very own MK Bill!
Just thought I’d set the record straight. ;)
Dear Vet!!!! What a beautiful and historic account of our Bill’s notable ancestor!! We are so fortunate to have you as blog Historian, particularly with regard to the presence of our own Bill’s forefathers at so many of our most important and/or historic moments in time!
The Order of The Catnip! This honor certainly explains MK Bill’s entitlement attitude with respect to paypal donations being snatched and used for the Ordering of the Catnip.
This account most definitely clarifies our Bill’s staunch and loyal patriotism and only serves to confirm what a fine president he would make, especially when we consider his inherited prowess at capturing and dispositioning rodents, of which there are so many in DC.
I am convinced now, more than ever, that MK Bill must pursue his Presidential bid with vigor just as soon as he wakes up from his nap. Even though Bill is actually a Clinton Democrat, there is no sense of him bothering with a Primary with that current bunch, as Bill just remarked the other day that the New Democratic Party is seriously Shovel Ready. Instead, I am going to suggest that, being a cat and therefore having multiple wives, he should consider posing as a Mormon. So long as he doesn’t reveal his intentions to provide free CAT Scans as part of his health plan, I am sure this will be enough to convince the Republicans to give him a nod. Besides, he’s exponentially more interesting than the creatures they have as candidates to-date.
Vet, thank you for renewing my faith in Bill’s love of Country, as I do admit I was losing patience with him, what with his constant use of my charge card to investigate the Playcat Channel and the Live Nude Cats website. Now I understand that these are just the necessary diversions of a very patriotic cat who, like Newt Gingrich, is so patriotic, he sometimes ..…strays, and who, of course, aspires to fill Anthony Weiner’s seat, if not his shorts.
Trenton will never look the same to me again, and believe me, it never did look like much to me. Who knew?