For eons, the Russian cat has been a noble emissary of goodwill — like when Vladimir Putin gave this cat to Japanese officials who named it "Mir," or Peace.
Recently, however, experts have noted a sharp uptick in Russian cat aggression. Eight cats have been quarantined in the last few weeks for attacking their owners in just one corner of Moscow, say veterinarians. That's an 800% increase from last year.
This report draws on open source information — mostly gained by searching "кот психанул" ("cat goes crazy") on YouTube — to provide incontrovertible evidence of the growing Russian cat menace.
Russia's cats pose the clearest threat to the European security order since the Cold War, even if you are wearing oven mittens.
The Russian cat shows no mercy to small children.
Nor does it shy from taking several grown men hostage.
Not even turtles are safe.
Or bears.
Western governments are woefully underprepared to deal with the Russian cat rearmament program. Only two NATO countries spend the mandated two percent of their GDP on catnip.
Russia's resurgent cats are highly trained, and experts in complex special operations, like climbing up a towel into this apartment.
The Russian cat is merciless, and prepared to use any weapon at its disposal against its enemy.
As Putin hypes up nationalist fervor, Russian cats have reacted eagerly.
Cats have joined Russian counter-sanctions against the U.S. — Barack Obama's not allowed to pet this one. Neither are Congress, even though they really want to.
Some have even joined Russian-backed separatist militias fighting the government in eastern Ukraine.
Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, Russia's cats deny any involvement in their campaign of havoc.
But the greatest danger posed by Russia's unbridled cat aggression is, perhaps, to Russia itself.
The West must act now, or risk losing this in-fur-mation war for good.