Every morning, I begin my duties with a thorough inspection of the kitchen.

Some cats rush about demanding breakfast. I prefer to position myself elegantly on the kitchen worktop and allow breakfast negotiations to develop at their own pace. A true ruler never appears desperate. She simply sits near the food cupboards and looks increasingly disappointed.

This particular morning, the sun was shining through the stained glass, scattering warm, coloured beams across my white fur. Naturally, I placed myself directly in the finest patch of light.

Good lighting is essential when one is conducting important household business.

Beside me sat a melon.

I settled slightly behind it, with only my ears visible above the top. From the humans’ point of view, the melon had suddenly grown two small white ears.

They found this extremely amusing.

I allowed them their little moment.

In reality, I was testing a new surveillance technique: agricultural camouflage. No visiting sparrow, passing neighbour or unauthorised kitchen snack would ever suspect that the melon was being supervised by senior management.

Later that day, one of my humans presented me with a Vitakraft stick.

Now, I am normally a calm and dignified lady. I believe in patience, good manners and measured responses.

But there are certain delicacies for which one might, purely hypothetically, commit a minor act of treason.

The Vitakraft stick is one of them.

I took possession immediately and conducted a full quality inspection. The flavour was excellent, the texture satisfactory and the human’s delivery speed just within acceptable limits.

I awarded several continuing education points.

However, there was no time for a prolonged celebration. The outside painter had arrived.

A stranger.

Near my house.

With ladders.

Clearly, this required my personal attention.

I moved to the nearest window and watched him carefully. Every brushstroke was monitored. Every movement was recorded. Every suspicious bucket was examined from a safe and comfortable distance.

The humans claimed he was simply painting the outside of the house.

That is exactly what an outside painter would want them to think.

Fortunately, I remained on duty until the situation was under control.

By evening, the melon had been cleared of suspicion, the Vitakraft stick had vanished without witnesses, and the painter had completed his work under strict royal supervision.

Another successful day of household management.

Honestly, I do not know how my humans managed before me.

Yours, Mrs. Cotton 🐱🐾