📝🐱🕵️ The Curious Case of the Suspicious Humans

Something is going on in my household.

I cannot yet say what it is, but I have noticed a rather disturbing change in the behaviour of my humans.

They are acting strangely.

Now, I appreciate that this is hardly breaking news. My humans have always been somewhat peculiar. They voluntarily leave the house, stand under running water and occasionally talk to a machine that makes coffee as though it were a close personal friend.

I have learnt to tolerate these shortcomings.

But lately, something feels different.

There is an atmosphere of secrecy. A certain suspicious enthusiasm. The sort of behaviour one might expect from people planning a surprise party without consulting the guest of honour.

And since I am the only individual of any real importance in this household, I find that deeply concerning.

I have therefore increased surveillance.

Every movement is being monitored. Every conversation is subject to review. Any unusual activity will be investigated immediately, preferably from a comfortable position on the sofa.

I have considered questioning the humans directly, but experience suggests this would achieve very little. They would simply say something ridiculous like, “Hello, sweetheart!” and scratch me behind the ears.

An effective interrogation technique, admittedly. I have fallen for it before.

For now, I shall remain calm.

I have not ruled out the possibility that they are arranging something wonderful for me. Perhaps a new luxury bed. An improved dining service. Or, at long last, the removal of all restrictions concerning the kitchen worktop.

One must remain optimistic.

However, should this mysterious development involve any changes to my established privileges, sleeping arrangements or position as undisputed ruler of the household, I expect to be consulted.

Preferably before the decision is made.

I have already prepared my response to any proposal I find unacceptable.

It involves sitting on the paperwork.

The investigation continues.

And whatever my humans are hiding, they should remember one thing.

I may sleep sixteen hours a day, but the other eight are extremely well supervised.

Yours, Mrs. Cotton 🐱🐾