— Benjamin Hochman (@hochman) August 10, 2017 ​My advice to the St. Louis Cardinals? Just let it go. Take down the online press release and instantly end this search. It's not that I don't have my own quirky superstitions, but I do have a pretty good feeling that the presence of a ravenous kitten doesn't truly effect the outcome of baseball games. Simply put? Angels are much more helpful in the outfield, and some blood-thirsty feline that thinks it runs the joint doesn't have the widespread appeal of a dolphin that does halftime shows. I know that with one monstrous swing Yadier Molina carved out a spot for that bratty little cat in some weird annex of franchise history. However, the franchise in question needs to trust that it's in a better place living with 12-25 of his/her peers in the two bedroom apartment of an aging single/widowed woman that shamelessly collects kitties from places as strange as a Major League ballpark and immediately claims them as her own. I don't - for one goddamn second - believe that a broad batshit enough to scoop up a stray that just repeatedly gnawed on the hand of a human in front of thousands of people would lose track of said stray shortly thereafter. You don't partake in some asinine act of thievery and then simply lose what you risked it all to take. I know the little bastard had a sweet tooth for strangers, but not even the jaws of life can separate a crazy cat lady from that which she holds most dear. Therefore, I am just going to have to assume that she lied about misplacing it so that the organization would call off the proverbial dogs. No doubt in mind that thing is crapping up a storm in a living room-sized litter box with every other missing cat in a 10-15 mile radius. It would take Ace Ventura about 35 seconds to crack this case, but I hope he doesn't offer his services to help bring back what can only be described as an adorably disguised demon.
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