Bismarck's Books

1001 Ways to Defeat Austria-Hungry; The Idiot’s Guide to Squashing Liberals; A Prussian’s Guide to Mustache Care; These and many other books would have littered Otto von Bismarck’s desk had he been particularly interested in reading. Since he wasn't, he had plenty of free time to repress Catholics.

Bismarck the cat didn’t know anything about Catholics. Had he, he might have liked them. His affinity for incense was strong; strangely for a cat he liked being dabbed by water; he was one of God’s creatures…and so on.

One thing was for sure, though. Bismarck liked books. Long books, black books, wrong books, stacked books. For Bismarck the title of the book was less important than it’s substance; literally, how much it weighed. Bismarck’s number one criterion for a book was its perchability-how easy it was to sit on. His number two criterion was whether it had an interesting picture on the front.

One day Bismarck spotted a table with books on it. He noticed that nobody was sitting on them. Don’t mind if I do, he thought as he leapt atop. Turns out he had made his way onto a book with a multi-colored lion on the cover. Bismarck eyed the beast curiously.

Last time I checked, I had whiskers and fur too.

The similarities didn’t end there either. Bismarck, now unusually self-aware, caught himself sitting in a similar sphinxlike manner to the lion. He imagined himself with the same imperial grin. He remembered back to other cats he had known.

I recall Gizmo (those humans and their monikers really are quite absurd). Gizmo, in addition to all the similarities I have, even shared this beast’s coloring. Perhaps there is something there. Oh yeah, there is, grass, underneath the lion.

The last time Bismarck had experienced grass it had been through a window on a perfectly lovely day in July no less.

My incarceration continues…

Bismarck scanned the books in search of titles that might be helpful. Among them were a biography Team of Rivals, the Gulag Archipelago, and a biography of Malcolm X. He bypassed all these in search of something that might deal with setting the subjugated free. He landed on a chemistry text.

Weighty, he thought, feeling the hefty book underneath his feat. Odd given the fire on its cover. As far as Bismarck knew fire was weightless. It did seem to go through things, however. He had once seen the human accidentally light a paper on fire. The human had then thrown the paper aside, freeing it from his grasp, before stomping on it. Bismarck, too, had a desire to be free from the human’s grasp but he had no wish to be stomped on. I must although the fire to win, he thought.

Bismarck waited. It took several nights but eventually, as expected, the human forgot to blow out one of his many candles. When the human was asleep Bismarck got off the bed, hopped up towards the table where the candle was set and oh so casually knocked it onto a book. The book caught on fire. The human woke in terror. He threw a blanket over the book. The fire department was called. The house was saved. But in the process Bismarck was taken outside. It was the middle of winter, so no grass. Just have to wait for next time, Bismarck thought.