At long last, the temperatures have dropped.

I do not wish to sound dramatic, but the recent heat was very much not approved by Management. And by Management, I obviously mean me: Mrs. Cotton, official household supervisor, window inspector, sofa commander, and full-time ruler of this establishment with a strong fist.

During the hot days, the humans made certain… adjustments. Windows were opened. Fans were deployed. Doors were discussed. And, most shockingly, I was occasionally allowed into areas of the house at night where I do not usually hold office.

Now, I understand why they did this. The heat was intense. The upstairs department required ventilation. The humans were trying their best, which is adorable and often a little confusing. But now that the weather has returned to something more civilised, I have been placed back in my rightful sleeping headquarters: the living room.

Some cats might complain.

I, however, am a strategic thinker.

Sleeping alone in the living room has many advantages. First of all, I do not have to wander around the house at night pretending to be busy. I can conserve energy for more important tasks, such as judging breakfast service, inspecting sunbeams, and suddenly deciding that the chair I ignored for three months is now my throne.

Secondly, the living room is the central command post. From here, I can monitor all household movement. If a human gets up for water, I know. If a mysterious noise happens in the kitchen, I know. If the sofa cushion is not positioned to my standards, I definitely know.

Thirdly, and most importantly, there are no sleeping humans taking up unnecessary space, breathing loudly, moving their legs, or making ridiculous noises. Honestly, I do not know how they get any rest with themselves around.

The humans did do one very good thing during the hot days: they gave me lovely cool soups to help me drink enough. These were acceptable. In fact, I would go as far as saying they were a valuable hydration initiative and should absolutely remain part of the household wellness programme.

The so-called cat milk, however, was a different matter.

I believe it may have been kitten milk, which is already suspicious. I am not a baby. I am a lady of status. I gave it a professional assessment and concluded: not fit for royal consumption. No, thank you. Please remove it from future planning documents.

So, in summary: cooler weather is welcome. The living room has once again become my private night-time kingdom. The soups may stay. The milk may leave. And the humans clearly require more training.

I will be assigning them mandatory Permanent Education Points immediately.

Topics include:

  • “Hydration for Distinguished Cats”
  • “Understanding the Difference Between Soup and Nonsense”
  • “Why the Living Room Is a Throne Room After Dark”

and

  • “Mrs. Cotton Is Not Wandering Aimlessly, She Is Conducting Strategic Patrols”

Progress will be reviewed at the next stand-up meeting. Attendance is compulsory. Purring is not guaranteed.

I’ll keep you all posted.

Yours, Mrs. Cotton 🐱🐾