From the first day he entered our home (after likely being bounced from the back of a Gypsy wagon, from the looks of him), we knew he was gifted – a seer. His long silences and penetrating stare revealing a deep inner knowing. A zen-like wisdom that we hoped to be the recipients of. We pay our homage through comfort and kibbles. With bottomless tuna buffets and a devotion to maintain his lifelong hermitage. However, though Mystic is perpetually on the verge of speaking The Great Truth that our souls yearn for, it appears that his teachings are to be transmitted in silence – like the profound sage that he is – allowing us to reach our own conclusions on the meaning and folly of life.