Lost in Showbiz basically couldn't give a toss about the animal kingdom, who are merely nature's service staff, with their dowdy uniforms not even the best thing you can do with a square foot of low-grade fur. You, however, should be mildly affected by news that Pete Doherty's cat has a coke problem.
That's right: even celebrities' pets are on better drugs than you. Can you please start thinking about how to fix this?
The coke-hound is in fact a kitten - one of a litter birthed by Pete's cat Dinger - and when it became ill, the Babyshambles singer took it to the vet. The latter discovered cocaine in its bloodstream. "It is a police matter," stated an RSPCA spokesman this week, before confirming that the kitten has now been removed. "It is very important to protect animals from substances that can do them serious harm."
Trust those RSPCA establishment lackeys to fail to realise that the Doherty feline is in fact a classic creative soul, driven to squeeze itself through the catflap in the doors of perception, before returning to its basket for disconnected and joyless sex with any member of its species willing to help stave off the comedown.
That said, its too-much-too-soon lifestyle is achingly familiar. For some time now, Lost in Showbiz has been looking for a project whereby it could Put Something Back. It suddenly alights on Pethab - I dare you to steal this one, Living TV - a rest facility where hopped-up showbiz animals could be encouraged to yap or mew about their feelings, before taking responsibility for their recovery.
There are so many celebrity pets who need not our judgment, but our love and understanding. Think of little Leya Mourinho, the yorkshire terrier whose aversion to the quarantine needle was hopelessly enabled by her Chelsea manager owner until things spiralled troublingly out of hand in May. Or think of any one of Paris Hilton's 12 dogs, a kind of Brat Pack of teacup chihuahuas who doubtless spend their days tapping messages to each other on Swarovski-encrusted BlackBerrys with perfectly manicured claws:
"OMG I heard Tinkerbell caught a tick off Britney Spears' new puppy!! I think U can guess how LOL!!!! she's such a little skank!!! What bag R U riding in tonight?"
Think, indeed, of the aforementioned Tinkerbell, whose disappearance in 2004 sparked Paris to paper Beverly Hills with home-made posters appealing for the dog's safe return. Lost in Showbiz saw it as a canine version of the Patty Hearst story, which would ultimately see Tinkerbell surface in a black beret and toting a tiny machine gun, making some unrealistic demands, such as for all police alsatians to be carried in handbags or whatever.
That actually didn't happen - Paris eventually remembered she'd left the dog round her grandma's - but kidnap remains just one peril facing the out-of-control celebrity pet. Their world is really a microcosm of LA society, only with fewer brakes on behaviour. After all, no matter how wasted you are on dogatinis before getting into your $2,000 Gucci ride, you will never be sent to high-security kennels.
As for Paris's other pets, there are fears too for Baby Luv, the kinkajou monkey who last year did something that made Mommy require a tetanus jab - so Drew Barrymore! - and Billy, the goat for whom Paris has reportedly already purchased the cemetery plot that lies next to Marilyn Monroe's. To you, just another screw-up statistic in the Hilton menagerie, but to Paris, a beloved charge who just lacked the tools to cope, and whose tragically untimely end is already being planned for.
With Pethab's help, could stories like Billy's be a thing of the past? Who knows. But, God, how many more have to go the way of Pete's kitten before we realise they're a stain on all our souls?
