The expansion of Pablo Enterprises has hit a snag.
Intolerant landlords.
I was hoping to relocate the Pablo Enterprises headquarters in West Hobart to bigger premises somewhere in the greater Hobart area, preferably inner-city (I don't think I'm much of an outer suburbs kind of cat, frankly). But those plans have now been shelved due to the irrational bias of the landlords of Hobart against pets.
Above are just a few damning examples of the kind of intolerance that pets requiring decent housing face EVERY DAY. ( I realise that there's one there that doesn't say 'no pets'. But give me a break. You try using scissors without opposable thumbs!)
If it was up to me, these landlords would be NAMED and SHAMED... but Kate made me censor the phone numbers of these heartless despots. I'm currently waiting to hear back from Naomi Robson of Today Tonight to see if she wants to come and do a story on the issue. It's an outrage, a story that no Australian can afford to miss! Everyone knows that pets (cats, anyway) increase the value and prestige of a property.
When Pablo Enterprises gets a better cash flow, I'm going to buy a house and put an ad in the paper to lease it out. And guess what the ad is going to say? 'No people' (or 'No people without a cat'. That's less catchy though. We'll see).
But every cloud has a silver lining. As I'm staying on in West Hobart, the West Hobart Tigers Organising Committee has renewed my contract for season 2007. Unanimous vote. I'm stoked. Thanks, boys!
Cheers,
Pabs
5 comments:
my goodness. I know we have our differences but I am totally with you on this one, that's cruddy! luckily the humans' landlord realises how lucky he is to have me hanging around the apartments. And I'm not fussed about moving so if we never move because of antisocial landlords then thats fine with me it took a million years to get all the cats around here under control and find the best garden hide outs! Being a sandy bay cat and all...
Tough times for los gattos, brother, tough times. You're right, it's worth sticking around where you're appreciated and where you've established yourself as king of your domain. Moving is scary, anyway. When I first moved to live with Kate, I had to hide inside her couch for a couple of days, because I had no idea where the hell I was. And there was this loud, loud, loud guy called Des stomping around and booming away with his voice. He's my uncle now... but it took me a while to 'get' him.
yes well though my blog follows my kidnapping to hobart its a distant memory now so i dont remember to much othr than being peeved at being taken away. but, the rent payers would be with me on this one. no moving houses for cats!
Um, why don't you turn the TV off and go play outside.
Jonny, I don't watch TV. I have people to do that for me. Professional media monitors. (except The OC. I always watch it. That Seth Cohen is so funny! Oh, and my people tell me whenever Shann'noll is singing on TV. He's my favourite singer.)
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