The Weather Has Personally Insulted Me

I have a complaint.

A serious complaint.

Possibly the most serious complaint I have ever filed, and I have filed many. There was the chicken incident, the blanket relocation scandal, the suspiciously small treat portions, and the time the human closed a door while I was still considering whether I wanted to walk through it.

But this?

This is different.

**It is raining.**

And nobody has asked my permission.

I discovered the situation shortly after breakfast, when I took my usual position at the window. I had important work to do. The garden needed inspecting. The birds needed supervising. A suspicious leaf had been behaving strangely near the fence, and I intended to observe it until it confessed.

I jumped onto the windowsill.

Settled my paws.

Arranged my tail.

Looked outside.

And saw water.

Everywhere.

The glass was covered in little drops. The garden looked wet. The path looked wet. Even the birds appeared to be having a miserable morning.

I stared at the scene for a long time.

Then I called the human.

“Meow.”

She looked up from her computer.

“What is it, Gryzka?”

I turned toward the window.

“Meow.”

She glanced outside.

“Oh, it's raining.”

OH, IT'S RAINING?

That's your explanation?

You have looked at the evidence and concluded that it is raining?

Excellent detective work. Shall I arrange a medal?

I returned to the window and continued my investigation.

Someone was responsible for this.

And I intended to find out who.

## 🕵️ Exhibit A: The Suspicious Water

I began by examining the drops on the glass.

They were small.

Transparent.

Numerous.

And extremely annoying.

Every few seconds, one of them moved down the window.

I watched it.

It stopped.

I watched harder.

It moved again.

I nearly fell off the windowsill.

This was clearly a hostile operation designed to distract me from my duties.

The drops were not behaving naturally.

They were moving without legs.

I have four legs, and even I cannot slide down a window like that.

I called Kitka over to inspect the evidence.

Kitka is older than I am and has the sort of expression that makes humans believe she understands complicated matters. Sometimes she does. Sometimes she is thinking about lunch.

She climbed onto the windowsill, examined the rain, and sat down.

“Well?” I asked.

“It's water.”

I stared at her.

“Thank you, Kitka. Your contribution will be included in the final report.”

She closed her eyes.

The investigation was not going well.

## 🐈 Spurka Has a Theory

Spurka arrived next.

She is excellent at investigations because she can appear silently from absolutely nowhere. One moment the hallway is empty, and the next moment she is standing behind you, looking as if she has known your secrets for years.

I explained the situation.

Rain on the window.

Wet garden.

Missing bird activity.

Suspicious drops.

Possible conspiracy.

Spurka listened carefully.

Then she said, “Perhaps the sky is leaking.”

I considered this.

It was a reasonable theory.

The sky is enormous, poorly maintained, and apparently has no customer service department.

I made a note.

**POSSIBLE CAUSE: STRUCTURAL FAILURE OF THE SKY.**

Kitka opened one eye.

“The sky isn't a roof.”

“Then why is water coming through it?”

Kitka had no answer.

I recorded her silence as a partial victory.

## 🌿 Lenka Inspects the Garden

Lenka volunteered to investigate the garden.

I immediately rejected the proposal.

Nobody was going outside in that weather.

We are cats, not unpaid agricultural workers.

Lenka insisted that she could inspect the garden from the other side of the window.

This was acceptable.

She stared at the wet plants for several minutes.

Then she announced, “The grass looks different.”

Of course it looks different.

It's covered in water.

We were surrounded by amateur detectives.

I took over the investigation.

## 📋 The Weather Department

I have decided that the weather must be managed by an organization.

Humans have departments for everything.

They have departments for taxes, traffic, rubbish collection, and other things that seem designed to make life unnecessarily complicated.

Therefore, there must be a Weather Department.

Somewhere, a group of humans is sitting in a warm office, drinking coffee, looking at charts, and deciding whether my garden should be dry.

And this morning, they made a decision.

Rain.

Without consultation.

Without notice.

Without even a small apology.

I demand to know their qualifications.

Have they ever tried to watch a bird through a rain-covered window?

Have they ever attempted to identify a suspicious movement in a wet hedge?

Have they ever been forced to stare at a puddle for forty minutes because the world outside has become too blurry to understand?

I doubt it.

If they had, this disaster would never have happened.

## 🐦 The Birds Have Disappeared

The next problem is the birds.

Normally, the garden has an excellent population of small feathered creatures who behave in ways that require constant monitoring.

They hop.

They flutter.

They land on branches.

They make noises.

They occasionally look directly at me, which I consider a challenge.

But today?

Nothing.

No birds on the fence.

No birds in the tree.

No birds hopping around the garden.

I searched the entire visible area.

Nothing.

I looked under the hedge.

Nothing.

I examined the branches.

Nothing.

I checked the bird feeder.

Still nothing.

Where have they gone?

Have they been informed about the rain?

Did someone send them a message?

Do they have a private weather forecast?

Why does everyone seem to know what is happening except me?

I have excellent hearing, excellent eyesight, and an outstanding ability to detect the opening of a treat packet from another room.

Yet I have not received a single notification about the weather.

This household's communication system is disgraceful.

## 😾 The Human Makes Everything Worse

At approximately eleven o'clock, the human approached the window.

I was still sitting there, monitoring the situation.

She looked outside.

Then she looked at me.

“Poor Gryzka. You can't go out in this weather.”

I turned slowly.

Excuse me?

I had not requested permission to go outside.

I was working.

There is a difference.

She stroked my head.

“Never mind. It'll stop eventually.”

Eventually?

There is that word again.

Humans use it whenever they have no useful information.

When will dinner be ready?

Eventually.

When will you open the door?

Eventually.

When will the rain stop?

Eventually.

I am beginning to suspect that humans have no idea what they are doing.

They simply walk around saying things and hope the situation improves.

## 🍗 Compensation Is Required

At this point, I believe compensation is appropriate.

The rain has disrupted my professional activities.

My window-watching schedule has been damaged.

My bird-monitoring duties have been suspended.

The garden inspection is incomplete.

My emotional wellbeing has suffered.

And I have spent the entire morning looking at water.

Therefore, I have prepared a list of acceptable compensation.

**Option One:** Chicken.

**Option Two:** More chicken.

**Option Three:** Chicken served in a manner suggesting genuine remorse.

**Option Four:** A treat allowance sufficient to cover the emotional consequences of prolonged rainfall.

The human suggested that I could have my usual lunch.

My usual lunch?

In the middle of a weather disaster?

I looked at her with the expression I normally reserve for empty food bowls.

She sighed.

Then she went to the kitchen.

I followed.

Perhaps the Weather Department has a complaints budget after all.

## 🛋️ An Unexpected Development

After lunch, I returned to the window.

The rain was still falling.

I watched it for a while.

Then I sat down.

Then I stretched.

Then I discovered that the cushion beside the window was surprisingly comfortable.

This presented an interesting opportunity.

If I could not monitor the birds, I could monitor the human.

She was at her desk.

Typing.

Occasionally drinking coffee.

Occasionally looking at the rain.

Occasionally saying things like, “What miserable weather.”

I began to understand something.

Humans also dislike the rain.

They cannot go for walks as easily. Their shoes get wet. Their hair behaves strangely. They carry umbrellas that turn inside out at the slightest inconvenience.

And they keep looking at the sky as if it might apologize.

For a brief moment, I felt sympathy.

Then the human said, “At least it's good weather for staying indoors.”

I looked at her.

Good weather?

GOOD WEATHER?

You have a roof, a blanket, hot drinks, books, a computer, and an entire house.

I have a window.

We are not experiencing the same situation.

## 🌧️ The Final Investigation

By late afternoon, I had gathered sufficient evidence to prepare my official report.

**CASE TITLE:** The Weather Has Personally Insulted Me.

**DATE:** A day on which the sky behaved disgracefully.

**PRIMARY SUSPECT:** The Weather Department.

**SECONDARY SUSPECT:** The Sky Maintenance Division.

**POSSIBLE ACCOMPLICES:** Clouds, wind, and any human who claims to enjoy rainy days.

**EVIDENCE:** Wet glass, wet garden, absent birds, general unpleasantness.

**WITNESS STATEMENTS:** Inconclusive. Kitka claims it is water. Spurka believes the sky is leaking. Lenka says the grass looks different.

**FINANCIAL DAMAGES:** One morning of interrupted bird surveillance.

**EMOTIONAL DAMAGES:** Significant.

**COMPENSATION REQUESTED:** Chicken.

**CASE STATUS:** OPEN.

I presented the report to the human.

She read it.

She laughed.

Then she said, “You're ridiculous, Gryzka.”

I was deeply offended.

I am not ridiculous.

I am a professional investigator working under difficult conditions.

There is a difference.

## 🐾 A Small Problem With My Theory

Later that evening, something happened.

The rain stopped.

Just like that.

The drops disappeared from the glass. The clouds began to move away. A bird landed on the fence.

I immediately returned to my post.

Everything was back to normal.

The bird hopped once.

I watched.

It hopped again.

I watched harder.

Then it flew away.

I sat there, stunned.

All that investigation.

All that paperwork.

All those accusations.

And the rain had simply stopped without consulting me.

I looked toward the sky.

“Don't think this means we're friends.”

The sky remained silent.

Typical.

## 📋 Gryzka's Official Weather Policy

After reviewing the events of the day, I have established the following rules for all future weather incidents.

**Rule One:** Rain must be announced in advance.

**Rule Two:** The Weather Department must provide a clear explanation for any unexpected precipitation.

**Rule Three:** Bird activity must be maintained at acceptable levels regardless of atmospheric conditions.

**Rule Four:** All affected cats must receive compensation.

**Rule Five:** Compensation must be edible.

**Rule Six:** The phrase “at least it's good weather for staying indoors” is prohibited unless accompanied by chicken.

**Rule Seven:** If the rain continues for more than three hours, the human must provide additional snacks and verbal reassurance.

**Rule Eight:** If the human laughs at the official report, the case automatically remains open.

I consider these rules perfectly reasonable.

The human has not signed them.

This is an administrative problem, and I will address it tomorrow.

Possibly after breakfast.

Possibly after a nap.

Possibly after several treats.

I am a very busy cat.

And the weather is still under investigation.

Love,

**Gryzka** 🐯🌧️

*Chief Investigator, Department of Atmospheric Injustice*\
*Senior Consultant in Window-Based Surveillance*\
*Director of Rainfall Complaints and Chicken Compensation*

**P.S.** The rain has started again.

I am reopening the case.

The Weather Department has clearly learned nothing.

Little Tragedies, Big Drama, and One Very Important Cat

 

Hello, dear humans, fellow cats, and anyone who has ever been personally inconvenienced by a chair, a door, or another person's questionable decisions.

Gryzka here.

I have some rather important news. Actually, scratch that. I have VERY IMPORTANT NEWS, and I expect everyone to put down whatever they are doing (preferably their phones, snacks, and anything edible) and pay attention.

I am going to be in a NEW BOOK.

Yes. A real book. With pages. And words. And other writers. And, most importantly, ME.

Apparently, being magnificent, supervising household operations, and keeping my human from doing anything remotely productive wasn't enough. Now I am expanding my professional activities into literature.

I always knew I had a talent for storytelling. My human, however, has been rather slow to recognise my genius. She seems to think that sitting on her keyboard while she is working is a nuisance. I call it creative collaboration. When I knock something off the desk, I call it plot development. And when I wake everyone up at an ungodly hour because my food bowl looks tragically empty, that's simply a story about survival.

But I digress.

A Collection Full of Unexpected Trouble

The book is called Little Tragedies and Other Inconveniences, and it is coming to Amazon before Christmas.

And believe me, there is quite a lot going on inside.

We're talking about more than 100 short stories, or vignettes, written by a wonderfully diverse group of writers. These little literary adventures explore love, loss, family drama, mysteries, unexpected encounters, questionable decisions, and all those moments when life decides to throw a perfectly good plan straight out of the window.

Which, frankly, sounds rather familiar.

You sit down for a peaceful afternoon. Everything is going well. Your coffee is ready, your favourite chair is waiting, and you have absolutely no intention of dealing with anyone's nonsense.

Then someone rings the doorbell.

Or an old love comes back.

Or a stranger appears.

Or you discover that the person you've trusted for years has been keeping a rather interesting secret.

Honestly, humans make life unnecessarily complicated. Have you considered simply taking a nap?

But apparently, that's not how these stories work.

Some will make you laugh. Others might make you sigh, swear, or stare at the wall for a few minutes. A few may even make you question your own life choices.

I personally recommend having a cat nearby while reading. We are excellent emotional support creatures, although our availability depends entirely on whether we are sleeping.

What Exactly Is a Vignette?

My human tells me that a vignette is a short literary snapshot. A small moment that captures something much bigger.

I understand this perfectly.

For example:

A human opens a cupboard. A cat appears.

The human says, "You're not getting another treat."

The cat disagrees.

Three minutes later, the cupboard is open, the treat packet is mysteriously empty, and the human is questioning the security arrangements in her own kitchen.

A complete story. Beginning, middle, and an ending nobody can quite explain.

That's literature, my friends.

The collection brings together more than 100 vignettes originally published in Fiction Shorts and Dark Lore Digest, the Medium publications curated by Michael J. Scott.

Now they're being gathered into one book, ready to entertain readers who enjoy stories that don't always behave themselves.

And I am delighted to be among them.

Romance, Mystery, Drama... and a Cat With Opinions

One of the things I find particularly interesting about this collection is its variety.

Romance? Certainly. Humans falling in love, falling out of love, and occasionally falling over their own feet while trying to impress someone.

Mystery? Absolutely. Secrets, strangers, suspicious circumstances, and situations that make you wonder whether you should have locked the door.

Drama? Plenty. Families are especially talented at creating it. I have observed this for years, and I consider myself something of an expert.

Humour? Naturally. Although I suspect humans sometimes laugh at things that are not particularly funny. Perhaps it's a coping mechanism.

And then there are those stories that begin quite innocently and end somewhere nobody expected.

I approve.

Life is much more interesting when it refuses to follow instructions. Although, personally, I prefer my own life to remain predictable: breakfast, a little supervision, lunch, some keyboard-related activities, dinner, and several hours of uninterrupted admiration.

Is that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes.

Why You Should Keep an Eye Out for This Book

Because Christmas is coming, and you will eventually run out of socks to give people.

Because more than 100 stories mean plenty of reading material for those quiet evenings when the television has nothing interesting to offer.

Because sometimes you want a story that makes you smile, sometimes one that surprises you, and sometimes one that reminds you that other people are making equally questionable decisions.

And because a collection of short stories is perfect for readers who don't always have time to settle down with a 500-page novel.

You can read one story with your morning coffee. Another while waiting for someone. A third before bed.

Just don't blame me if you end up reading ten.

I would also like to point out that this book makes an excellent Christmas gift. Especially for people who enjoy a little drama, a little mystery, and a generous helping of human absurdity.

Though I would personally prefer a Christmas gift basket containing treats. Several baskets, actually.

A Little Note From Your Favourite Furry Literary Critic

I am very proud to be part of this collection.

Of course, I expect my contribution to receive the attention it deserves. I have already informed the other household cats that we are dealing with a significant literary achievement here.

Kitka was unimpressed. She simply looked at me as if she had been expecting this all along.

Spurka disappeared.

Typical.

My human, meanwhile, seems quite excited. She keeps talking about the book, the writers, the stories, and the upcoming Amazon release.

I have allowed her to enjoy the moment.

After all, someone has to support the human staff.

So, dear readers, keep your eyes open!

Little Tragedies and Other Inconveniences will be available on Amazon before Christmas.

More than 100 vignettes. A wonderful collection of different voices. Stories about love, loss, laughter, secrets, surprises, and the beautiful chaos of being human.

And somewhere in there, there's a little bit of Gryzka.

Naturally, that's the most important part.

Until next time, stay curious, keep reading, and never trust an empty food bowl.

With literary purrs and considerable self-importance,

Gryzka
Magnificent Cat. Household Supervisor. Now Apparently a Published Author.

P.S. If anyone from the publishing world is reading this, I am available for interviews, book signings, and promotional appearances. My fee is payable in treats. Premium treats. I have standards.

My Official November Complaint Department

November has arrived.

And with it, problems.

Many problems.

Serious problems.

Some of them are so serious that I have been forced to open an official household complaints department.

**The Gryzka November Complaint Department.**

We are now accepting complaints.

From cats only.

Humans may submit complaints if they wish, but they will not be taken seriously.

Obviously.

---

# 📋 OFFICE HOURS

The Complaint Department is open:

**Whenever I am awake.**

Which means:

7:03–7:04  
9:17–9:18  
11:42–11:47  
14:06–14:07  
16:31–16:35  
18:00–18:02  
21:14–21:16  
and approximately seventeen times during the night.

Appointments are unnecessary.

Simply appear near me and look offended.

I will understand.

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 001
## Insufficient Treats

This is the most common complaint.

The human opens the cupboard.

We hear it.

We know that sound.

**Treat cupboard.**

We arrive.

Kitka arrives.

Spurka arrives.

Lenka arrives.

I arrive first because I am management.

The human takes out the treats.

Excellent.

Then she gives us...

One.

One treat.

Per cat.

I would like to know who approved this policy.

Because it was not me.

One treat is not a portion.

One treat is a **sample.**

A preview.

A suggestion.

A tiny edible insult.

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 002
## The Windowsill Is Cold

This one is extremely serious.

The windowsill used to be warm.

The sun used to shine there.

Now?

Cold.

Cold glass.

Cold air.

Cold everything.

I sat there yesterday for approximately four seconds.

My paws became offended.

I left.

The human said:

“Why don't you sit by the window anymore?”

Because, human.

**The window has stopped cooperating.**

Please repair the sun immediately.

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 003
## Closed Doors

Humans love doors.

Open door:

Fine.

Closed door:

**Emergency.**

Why is it closed?

What is happening behind it?

Who is inside?

What are they doing?

Why am I not allowed to know?

I don't necessarily want to go through the door.

I simply want the option.

This is an important distinction.

The human says:

“You don't need to go in there.”

That is not the point.

I need the door open so I can decide not to go in.

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 004
## Moved Cushions

I had a cushion.

It was perfect.

Correct shape.

Correct softness.

Correct temperature.

Correct location.

Then the human moved it.

Why?

She said:

“I was cleaning.”

Cleaning?

You moved my cushion for **cleaning?**

The cushion was perfectly clean.

It had my fur on it.

That is not dirt.

That is **ownership documentation.**

The human removed my evidence.

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 005
## Humans Sleeping When Cats Are Awake

This is becoming a major problem.

At night, the household becomes quiet.

The human goes to bed.

We remain awake.

Obviously.

Someone has to supervise.

I walk around.

Spurka patrols.

Kitka checks the bedroom.

Lenka investigates something nobody else heard.

The human says:

“Please go to sleep.”

No.

It is 2:17 in the morning.

This is an excellent time to suddenly remember that I haven't run through the hallway at maximum speed today.

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 006
## Suspiciously Small Chicken Portions

I would like to address the chicken situation.

The human prepared chicken.

We smelled it.

We assembled.

We waited.

The plate appeared.

It was...

Small.

Very small.

Suspiciously small.

I examined the evidence.

There was clearly more chicken somewhere.

I know because I could smell it.

The human said:

“That's enough.”

Enough for whom?

A hamster?

---

# 📋 OFFICIAL CHICKEN PORTION CALCULATION

After extensive research, I have developed a scientific formula.

**Correct chicken portion = amount currently available + whatever is still in the kitchen.**

This formula has never failed.

Humans keep saying:

“You've already had some.”

Irrelevant.

That was **previous chicken.**

We are discussing **current chicken.**

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 007
## The Human Says “Later”

“Later” is one of the most dangerous words in the human vocabulary.

“Treat later.”

“Food later.”

“Play later.”

“Open the door later.”

“Move the blanket later.”

When is later?

Five minutes?

Ten?

Tomorrow?

Next Tuesday?

There is no acceptable definition.

Cats operate on a much more reliable system.

**Now.**

If something is wanted now, it is wanted now.

This is why we are successful.

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 008
## The Heating Situation

November is cold.

Cats know this.

Humans also know this.

Yet sometimes the radiator is cold.

Why?

The human says:

“It isn't cold enough yet.”

I would like to invite her to sit on the floor without clothes.

Then we can discuss what “cold enough” means.

Kitka has already established permanent radiator rights.

Spurka has located the warmest blanket.

Lenka has discovered a patch of sunlight that lasts approximately six minutes.

I have chosen the best sleeping location.

The household heating department is therefore functioning.

Barely.

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 009
## The Human Keeps Saying “Move”

Apparently I am sometimes “in the way.”

Again.

This has been discussed.

I am never in the way.

I am strategically positioned.

November requires careful positioning.

Near the radiator.

Near the kitchen.

Near the human.

Near the food.

Near the blanket.

Preferably all four at once.

If the human cannot walk around me, that is a human route-planning issue.

Not my problem.

---

# 😾 COMPLAINT No. 010
## The Human Has Started Wearing Socks

This is extremely suspicious.

Humans suddenly become covered in fabric.

Socks.

Slippers.

Sweaters.

Blankets.

Scarves.

Coats.

Hats.

Meanwhile, cats simply continue being cats.

We already have excellent coats.

Built in.

Water-resistant.

Fashionable.

Warm.

No laundry required.

Humans could learn something.

---

# 📋 EMERGENCY COMPLAINT FORM

Any cat wishing to submit a formal grievance must complete the following form:

**Name:** __________________

**Complaint:** __________________

**Was food involved?**  
☐ Yes  
☐ Obviously

**Were treats involved?**  
☐ Yes  
☐ Not enough

**Was a door closed?**  
☐ Yes  
☐ Criminally

**Was your sleeping place disturbed?**  
☐ Yes  
☐ Absolutely

**Did the human say “later”?**  
☐ Yes  
☐ Repeatedly

**Did the human attempt to move you?**  
☐ Yes  
☐ She tried

**Recommended compensation:**  
☐ Treats  
☐ Chicken  
☐ Blanket  
☐ Immediate apology  
☐ All of the above

---

# 🐾 THE FIRST OFFICIAL MEETING

I held our first November Complaint Department meeting yesterday.

Kitka had three complaints.

Spurka had five.

Lenka had twelve.

I had a folder.

This immediately established my authority.

We sat around the table.

Well.

Some of us sat on chairs.

Some sat underneath the table.

One of us was inside a cardboard box.

This is how professional meetings work.

---

# 📢 KITKA'S COMPLAINT

Kitka's complaint was simple.

The human had changed the blanket.

The new blanket was acceptable.

But not perfect.

Kitka requested the return of the old blanket.

Her complaint was filed under:

**Blanket Standards and Quality Control.**

---

# 📢 SPURKA'S COMPLAINT

Spurka complained that someone had moved a toy.

Nobody knew where the toy had originally been.

Spurka did.

She had seen everything.

She declined to provide further information.

Her complaint remains under investigation.

---

# 📢 LENKA'S COMPLAINT

Lenka complained that the human had eaten something without sharing.

We asked what it was.

She said she didn't know.

She simply felt that sharing should have occurred.

I agreed.

The complaint was approved.

---

# 📢 MY COMPLAINT

I had one main complaint.

The human had looked directly at me while eating chicken.

And did not give me any.

This is unacceptable.

She had the chicken.

I had the face.

The face was excellent.

The chicken was available.

The evidence was overwhelming.

Yet she refused.

I have not forgotten.

---

# 🧑‍⚖️ THE NOVEMBER COURT

After reviewing all complaints, I have established a special court.

I am the judge.

Kitka is senior advisor.

Spurka is head of investigations.

Lenka is in charge of snacks.

The human is the defendant.

The first case:

**The People vs. Human Portion Control.**

Charges include:

- insufficient treats
- suspiciously small chicken portions
- unnecessary “later”
- excessive door closing
- unauthorized cushion relocation
- failure to maintain warm windowsills

The human has pleaded:

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Typical.

---

# 📋 OUR OFFICIAL NOVEMBER DEMANDS

We have prepared a list.

### Demand No. 1
More treats.

### Demand No. 2
Warmer sleeping locations.

### Demand No. 3
No unnecessary door closing.

### Demand No. 4
Return of moved cushions.

### Demand No. 5
Adequate chicken portions.

### Demand No. 6
No waking humans who are asleep.

Wait.

That last one was written by the human.

**Rejected.**

---

# 🌙 NIGHT SHIFT

At 1:36 in the morning, I checked the Complaint Department.

Everything was quiet.

The human was asleep.

The house was dark.

Kitka was sleeping.

Spurka was nowhere to be seen.

Lenka was curled up somewhere warm.

I sat in the hallway.

I thought about November.

Cold windows.

Dark afternoons.

Blankets.

Closed doors.

Small chicken portions.

A difficult month.

Then I heard something.

The fridge.

Opening.

I ran.

The Complaint Department was officially closed.

But emergency chicken matters take priority.

Obviously.

---

# 📋 FINAL NOTICE

The Gryzka November Complaint Department will remain open throughout the month.

Complaints may be submitted at any hour.

No complaint is too small.

Except complaints from humans.

Those will be placed directly in the recycling bin.

November may be dark.

It may be cold.

The days may be short.

But we cats will survive.

We have blankets.

We have radiators.

We have windows.

We have each other.

And most importantly...

We have a complaint department.

Because if there is one thing cats are exceptionally good at, it is identifying problems that humans didn't even know existed.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have received a very serious report.

Someone has opened a packet of chicken.

And apparently...

**I wasn't invited.**

This cannot continue.

Love,

**Gryzka** 🐯📋

*Head of the November Complaint Department*  
*Chief Feline Grievance Officer*  
*Director of Unacceptable Portion Investigation*  
*Open 24/7, especially at dinner time*

Why Humans Wear Five Layers of Clothing and Still Complain

 

I have a question.

Actually, I have had this question for several winters now.

Why are you always cold?

I don't understand.

You have invented heating.

You have blankets.

You have radiators.

You have slippers.

You have socks.

You have sweaters.

You have coats.

You have scarves.

You have hats.

You have gloves.

Some of you even have something called a thermal base layer.

And yet...

Every October, you stand in the middle of the room and announce:

“I'm freezing.”

😐

Meanwhile, I am lying on the sofa wearing exactly one outfit.

Fur.

And I'm fine.

---

🐾 My Winter Wardrobe

Let's compare.

Gryzka's wardrobe:

One fur coat.

That's it.

No buttons.

No zippers.

No sleeves.

No laundry.

No ironing.

No seasonal shopping.

No trying things on.

No standing in front of the mirror saying:

“Does this make me look bigger?”

Obviously it does.

You put on five sweaters.

Of course you look bigger.

😂

---

🧶 The Sweater Appears

The first sign of winter is always the same.

The human opens a cupboard.

She pulls out a sweater.

Then another.

Then another.

Suddenly there are sweaters everywhere.

On the sofa.

On the chair.

On the bed.

On the floor.

I inspect them.

They are soft.

Warm.

Excellent.

Naturally, I sit on one.

The human comes back.

“Gryzka! I'm wearing that!”

Yes.

Were wearing.

Now I am wearing it.

This is how ownership works.

---

🧦 The Sock Situation

Humans have a remarkable relationship with socks.

They put socks on their feet.

Then they complain that their feet are cold.

This is confusing.

Cats have paws.

We don't need socks.

We walk around perfectly happily.

Humans have feet.

They cover them in socks.

Then slippers.

Then sometimes another pair of socks.

And still:

“My feet are freezing!”

Perhaps the problem is not your feet.

Perhaps the problem is your attitude.

😌

---

🧣 The Scarf Incident

Then comes the scarf.

Humans wrap enormous pieces of fabric around their necks.

Round.

Round.

Round.

Sometimes three times.

At this point, I wonder how they breathe.

Then they look in the mirror.

“I love this scarf.”

Why?

It is touching your face.

It is enormous.

It gets caught in doors.

It falls into soup.

And when you come home, you throw it onto the sofa.

Which means...

My scarf now.

🐾

---

🧥 The Coat

The coat is the most impressive part.

Humans have coats for:

Rain.

Cold.

Very cold.

Slightly cold.

Wind.

Rain and wind.

Cold rain.

Autumn rain.

Winter rain.

Occasionally rain that is somehow described as “light.”

Cats have one coat.

We call it:

fur.

It works in autumn.

It works in winter.

It works in spring.

Sometimes it works so well that humans complain:

“Gryzka, you're shedding everywhere!”

Yes.

That's how the heating system works.

---

🧤 Gloves

Then humans put gloves on.

This creates a serious problem.

They can no longer use their fingers properly.

They struggle with keys.

They struggle with phones.

They struggle with zippers.

They drop things.

They complain.

Meanwhile, I have perfectly functioning paws.

No gloves.

No problem.

Perhaps humans should reconsider their clothing choices.

---

🎩 And Then Come Hats

I have never understood hats.

Humans put something on their heads because it is cold.

Fine.

But then they take it off indoors.

Then they put it back on.

Then they take it off again.

Then they complain that their hair looks strange.

Humans spend an extraordinary amount of time managing their heads.

Cats simply have ears.

Much easier.

---

🧤 The Five-Layer Mystery

I conducted an experiment.

I watched the human get dressed one morning.

Layer one:

shirt.

Layer two:

sweater.

Layer three:

another sweater.

Layer four:

coat.

Layer five:

scarf.

Then:

hat.

Gloves.

Socks.

Boots.

She stood in front of the mirror.

“I hope I'm warm enough.”

I stared at her.

You are wearing the entire textile industry.

What more do you want?

😂

---

🐱 Meanwhile...

I was lying on the sofa.

One fur coat.

Paws tucked underneath.

Completely comfortable.

The human looked at me.

“You're lucky you have fur.”

Correct.

Thank you for noticing.

---

🌡️ The Thermostat Argument

Humans also have complicated arguments about temperature.

One human says:

“It's freezing.”

Another says:

“It's too warm.”

One opens a window.

Another closes it.

Someone adjusts the heating.

Someone else adjusts it again.

Then everybody complains.

Cats have a much simpler system.

Too cold?

Find radiator.

Too warm?

Find floor.

Perfect temperature?

Stay there until someone disturbs you.

This system has worked beautifully for generations.

---

🔥 The Radiator

The radiator is particularly important.

Humans believe it belongs to the household.

Incorrect.

It belongs to cats.

The human pays for the heating.

That is admirable.

We appreciate her contribution.

But payment does not equal ownership.

If Kitka is lying beside the radiator, the radiator is Kitka's.

If I am lying beside it, it is mine.

If Spurka arrives first...

We negotiate.

Lenka usually just sits on somebody.

This is why she is not yet allowed to handle legal matters.

---

🛏️ The Blanket Problem

Humans also have blankets.

Many blankets.

Thick blankets.

Soft blankets.

Fleece blankets.

Winter blankets.

Electric blankets.

Weighted blankets.

And yet...

When I lie on one, the human says:

“Can I have some?”

No.

You have five more.

This one is occupied.

🐯

She pulls the blanket.

I pull it back.

She pulls again.

I refuse.

She sighs.

Eventually we reach an agreement.

She gets approximately 20 percent.

I get the remaining 80.

Fair.

---

🧥 The Great Coat Pocket Mystery

Human coats have pockets.

Many pockets.

Why?

To carry things.

Keys.

Phone.

Wallet.

Tissues.

Receipts.

Sometimes food.

I believe coat pockets should contain treats.

This seems obvious.

I have inspected several.

None contained treats.

This is a serious design flaw.

If humans want cats to approve their coats, they need to improve pocket contents.

---

🐾 Why Don't Cats Need Clothes?

Because we have already solved the problem.

Our bodies come with:

✨ insulation
✨ warmth
✨ softness
✨ built-in seasonal adjustment
✨ no zippers
✨ no buttons
✨ no dry cleaning

And our fur has another important feature.

It can be deposited on human clothing.

This means that even when humans leave the house...

we go with them.

🐾

You're welcome.

---

😹 The Human Finally Gets Home

After all the layers, the human eventually goes outside.

She comes back.

She takes off:

coat.

Scarf.

Hat.

Gloves.

Boots.

Sweater.

Sometimes another sweater.

The floor is covered.

The chair is covered.

The sofa is covered.

I inspect everything.

Excellent.

A whole collection of new cat beds.

The human says:

“I'm exhausted.”

I don't understand.

You spent the entire day wearing blankets.

How difficult could it be?

---

🐯 Gryzka's Official Winter Clothing Guide

If humans insist on wearing clothes, I have some recommendations.

For mild autumn weather:

One sweater.

For cold weather:

One sweater and a cat.

For very cold weather:

Two cats.

For extremely cold weather:

Three cats.

For catastrophic conditions:

Four cats and a blanket.

There is absolutely no need for five layers of clothing.

Unless...

You are planning to carry us outside.

Then perhaps take the coat.

And the scarf.

And the gloves.

And the boots.

Actually, take everything.

---

🐾 Final Thoughts From Gryzka

I have now watched another human winter begin.

The sweaters are out.

The coats are hanging by the door.

The scarves are everywhere.

Socks are multiplying.

The heating is on.

The blankets have returned.

And humans are still saying:

“I'm cold.”

Meanwhile, I am stretched across the sofa in my magnificent fur coat.

Warm.

Comfortable.

Elegant.

Completely dressed.

I look at the human.

She looks at me.

“You're so lucky, Gryzka.”

Yes.

I am.

Because I don't spend November standing in front of a wardrobe saying:

“I have nothing to wear.”

I have everything I need.

It came attached to me.

🐯🐾

Now please stop complaining about the cold.

You have seven sweaters.

And I have one cushion.

We both have problems.

Love,

Gryzka 🐯

Chief Feline Fashion Consultant
Director of Natural Insulation
Owner of One Fur Coat and Several Human Sweaters

The Great Sofa Territory Dispute

 

There are many things humans believe they own.

The house.

The furniture.

The television.

The refrigerator.

The strange little machine that makes coffee.

The internet.

I have news.

You don't own these things.

You merely pay for them.

There is an important distinction.

The cats own them.

Especially the sofa.

And unfortunately, there has been a serious disagreement regarding ownership of one particular section of that sofa.

The perfect cushion.

🐾

It is soft.

It is warm.

It has exactly the right amount of human smell.

It receives afternoon sunlight.

It is slightly raised above the other cushions.

And, most importantly, if you curl up in exactly the correct position, nobody can easily move you.

It is magnificent.

It is also mine.

At least...

It was mine.

---

The Problem Began on a Tuesday

I had been sleeping on the perfect cushion for approximately forty-three minutes.

This is an important detail.

I had already arranged myself properly.

Front paws tucked.

Tail wrapped around body.

Eyes mostly closed.

Ears in a relaxed but operational position.

A perfect cat.

Then Kitka appeared.

She stopped.

She looked at me.

I looked at her.

She looked at the cushion.

Then back at me.

I knew immediately.

Territorial negotiations had failed before they had even begun.

Kitka is older than me.

She has experience.

She has dignity.

She also has a very particular expression that means:

Move.

I pretended not to understand.

---

The Ancient Law of the Sofa

There are rules.

Humans don't know them because humans are not cats.

Obviously.

The first and most important law is:

If a cat is already sitting somewhere, that place belongs to the cat.

This is simple.

There are no exceptions.

If I am on the sofa, it is my sofa.

If Kitka is on the sofa, it is her sofa.

If Spurka is on the sofa, it is her sofa.

If Lenka is on the sofa...

Well.

Lenka probably doesn't know what she's doing.

But technically it is still her sofa.

The second law is even more important:

The moment a cat leaves a place, another cat may claim it.

This is called strategic succession.

Humans call it:

“Where did Gryzka go?”

Irrelevant.

I have left the cushion.

Therefore, someone else may occupy it.

But if I return three seconds later?

The cushion belongs to me again.

This is basic property law.

---

🛋️ The Four Claims

We held an emergency meeting.

Kitka claimed the cushion because she had occupied it first.

I claimed it because I had occupied it most recently.

Spurka claimed it because she had been watching it from across the room for twenty minutes.

Lenka claimed it because she was already sitting there.

Nobody had noticed Lenka.

This is often how Lenka wins.

She simply appears.

---

Kitka's Argument

Kitka was first to present her case.

She sat elegantly.

Very elegantly.

Then she said nothing.

This is Kitka's preferred negotiation technique.

Silence.

A long stare.

Perhaps a blink.

Possibly another stare.

She does not need speeches.

Her expression says:

I am older than you. I have seniority. I have shed fur on this sofa since before you understood the importance of this cushion.

A strong argument.

Unfortunately, I had evidence.

---

My Evidence

I pointed out that I had been sleeping there.

Kitka looked unimpressed.

I pointed out that the cushion had been warm because of me.

Still unimpressed.

I pointed out that I had arranged the blanket.

She looked at the blanket.

Then at me.

Then she sat down on the blanket.

On top of me.

This was not a counterargument.

This was an act of war.

😾

---

🐈‍⬛ Spurka's Secret Strategy

Spurka had said almost nothing during the entire meeting.

This should have worried us.

Spurka becomes quiet when she is planning something.

She disappeared.

Nobody knew where she went.

We continued arguing.

Five minutes later, I noticed that the perfect cushion was empty.

I looked at Kitka.

Kitka looked at me.

We both looked toward the kitchen.

Then we heard:

purr.

Spurka had taken the cushion.

How?

Nobody knew.

She had apparently been sitting there for several minutes.

Silent.

Invisible.

Successful.

This is why Spurka should never be underestimated.

---

🐱 Then Lenka Arrived

Lenka came running into the room.

She saw Spurka on the cushion.

She jumped onto the sofa.

She bounced across two cushions.

She landed directly beside Spurka.

Spurka opened one eye.

Lenka looked at her.

Spurka looked at Lenka.

Lenka tried to squeeze into the remaining three centimeters of cushion.

There was now:

One sofa.

One perfect cushion.

Two cats.

This was not sustainable.

Lenka did not care.

She began grooming herself.

Spurka moved approximately two centimeters.

Lenka moved approximately three centimeters.

Spurka moved again.

Lenka moved again.

Eventually both cats were occupying a space designed for one cat.

This is how cats solve housing problems.

Humans could learn from us.

---

🧍 The Human Makes a Terrible Mistake

Then the human came into the room.

She looked at the sofa.

She looked at the cats.

She sighed.

Then she sat down.

On the perfect cushion.

Silence.

Four cats stared at her.

She looked around.

“What?”

What?

WHAT?

She had just occupied disputed territory without consulting any of us.

This was unacceptable.

Kitka stared.

Spurka stared.

Lenka stared.

I stared.

The human picked up her book.

She started reading.

I could hardly believe it.

---

⚖️ The Court Was Convened

I called an emergency session.

The case was:

The Cats vs. The Human

Charge:

Unauthorized occupation of prime sofa territory.

Evidence:

• one perfect cushion,
• four angry cats,
• one completely unaware human.

The verdict was unanimous.

Guilty.

Punishment:

Immediate removal from the cushion.

The human did not cooperate.

Therefore, we escalated.

---

🐾 Operation Human Displacement

Kitka sat beside her.

Spurka sat behind her.

Lenka climbed onto the blanket.

I approached from the front.

The human continued reading.

She was remarkably calm for someone surrounded by four determined cats.

I began with subtle tactics.

I stared.

Nothing.

I blinked slowly.

Nothing.

I put one paw on her leg.

Nothing.

I put another paw on her book.

She moved the book.

I put my entire body on the book.

She laughed.

This was becoming personal.

---

Phase Two

I sat directly in front of her face.

She moved left.

I moved left.

She moved right.

I moved right.

She said:

“Gryzka, what are you doing?”

I stared at her.

She stared at me.

Finally, she understood.

“Do you want the cushion?”

YES.

I had been extremely clear.

She moved.

I immediately jumped into the perfect position.

Victory.

🏆🐯

---

🛋️ The Peace Treaty

We eventually established a new agreement.

The sofa would be divided into four official feline territories.

Territory A:

Gryzka.

Prime cushion.

Obviously.

Territory B:

Kitka.

The warm corner.

Territory C:

Spurka.

The dark side where nobody bothers her.

Territory D:

Lenka.

Wherever she happens to land.

The human receives the remaining space.

This is generous.

She has accepted the agreement.

More or less.

---

📜 The Sofa Laws

I have now written the official Feline Sofa Constitution.

Article 1

A cat sitting on a cushion has absolute ownership of said cushion.

Article 2

A sleeping cat cannot be moved.

Article 3

A blanket occupied by a cat becomes feline property.

Article 4

A human may sit on the sofa only after obtaining verbal or non-verbal permission.

Article 5

Permission may be withdrawn at any moment.

Article 6

If a cat places one paw on a cushion, the entire cushion is considered occupied.

Article 7

If a human says, “There's plenty of room,” there is not.

Article 8

If a human says, “Move over,” the cat must pretend not to hear.

Article 9

If a cat moves voluntarily, this does not mean the human may take the original position.

Article 10

The perfect cushion belongs to Gryzka.

This final article cannot be appealed.

---

😼 What Humans Don't Understand

Humans think cats are fighting over furniture.

We are not.

We are fighting over principles.

The sofa represents security.

Comfort.

Warmth.

Status.

And the ability to look at a human who wants to sit down and silently communicate:

No.

This is extremely important for maintaining household balance.

Without cats, humans would become too confident.

They would sit wherever they wanted.

They would walk wherever they wanted.

They would put their laptops wherever they wanted.

They might even fold blankets without permission.

We cannot allow this.

---

🐾 The Final Incident

Last night, I discovered the human asleep on the perfect cushion.

Again.

I stood beside the sofa.

I stared at her.

She did not move.

I waited.

Still nothing.

I climbed onto the sofa.

She opened one eye.

“Gryzka?”

I stared.

She moved one leg.

I sat down.

She moved another leg.

I stretched out.

She sighed.

Then she lifted the blanket.

I crawled underneath.

There.

Peace.

The human went back to sleep.

I curled up beside her.

Kitka arrived twenty minutes later.

She climbed onto the other side.

Spurka appeared shortly afterward.

Lenka came running in because apparently everyone else was having fun.

Soon the entire sofa was occupied.

The human was pushed into approximately twelve centimeters of space.

She looked around.

Four cats.

One sofa.

No room.

She sighed.

“Why do I even have a sofa?”

I closed my eyes.

Excellent question.

The Human Has Bought Another Candle

 

We have a situation.

There is another candle.

😐

I repeat:

Another candle.

The human already has candles.

Many candles.

A frankly unreasonable number of candles.

There are candles on shelves.

Candles on tables.

Candles in jars.

Candles in little tins.

Candles that smell like vanilla.

Candles that smell like cinnamon.

Candles that apparently smell like “autumn morning.”

And now...

There is a new one.

🎃🕯️

I have inspected it.

It smells like pumpkin, cinnamon, apples, vanilla, and something that I believe may be a confused forest.

Why?

Why does the house need to smell like all of these things simultaneously?

We have cats.

---

🐱 The House Already Has a Natural Fragrance

Let us discuss the obvious.

Cats have smells.

Not bad smells.

Natural smells.

The human calls it:

“Warm feline.”

I call it:

Luxury.

There are subtle notes of:

🐾 warm fur
🐟 distant tuna
🍗 occasional chicken
🛏️ blanket
☀️ sun-warmed cushion
📦 cardboard box

It is an extremely sophisticated fragrance profile.

And it is completely free.

Yet the human keeps buying candles.

---

🕯️ The First Candle

The first candle appeared in September.

The human lit it.

The room smelled like vanilla.

She smiled.

“Oh, that's lovely.”

I sniffed.

Vanilla.

Fine.

I have nothing against vanilla.

Then she bought another one.

Cinnamon.

Then another.

Apple.

Then another.

Something called “Warm Autumn Evening.”

I smelled it.

I could not identify anything.

Possibly a tree.

Possibly a biscuit.

Possibly someone's grandmother.

Humans have become very ambitious with candles.

---

🔥 The Candle Lighting Ceremony

Humans have a whole ritual.

They light the candle.

They dim the lights.

They put on music.

They get a blanket.

They make tea.

They sit down.

Then they say:

“This is so cozy.”

Again.

Cozy.

Humans have discovered cozy and now they cannot stop talking about it.

Meanwhile, I have been cozy since birth.

I don't need candles.

I simply locate a warm surface and lie down.

Done.

---

🐾 I Tried to Explain This

I approached the human.

I sat beside the candle.

I looked at it.

Then I looked at myself.

I believe my expression communicated:

“You already own the superior decorative object.”

The human laughed.

She picked me up.

She kissed my head.

Then she said:

“Awww, you're cozy too.”

Too?

TOO?

I am not competing with the candle.

The candle is competing with me.

And it is losing.

---

🎃 The Pumpkin Candle Incident

Then came the pumpkin candle.

The human lit it.

I immediately became suspicious.

It smelled sweet.

Spicy.

Warm.

Strange.

I looked around for the pumpkin.

There was no pumpkin.

This was concerning.

Where was the pumpkin?

I searched the kitchen.

Nothing.

I searched the table.

Nothing.

Then I discovered the truth.

The pumpkin smell was coming from a tiny glass jar.

Humans have invented fake pumpkins that burn.

😳

This civilization is becoming increasingly complicated.

---

🕵️ The Candle Investigation

I have now established the following:

Candle #1

Smells like vanilla.

Candle #2

Smells like cinnamon.

Candle #3

Smells like apple.

Candle #4

Smells like something called “fireside.”

Candle #5

Smells like pumpkin.

Candle #6

Smells like “cozy cabin.”

Candle #7

Unknown.

Possibly forest.

Possibly soup.

Possibly a man named Kevin.

I have not yet determined this.

---

😾 The Real Problem

My biggest concern isn't the smell.

It is the placement.

Humans put candles on tables.

Cats walk on tables.

Humans put candles on shelves.

Cats jump onto shelves.

Humans put candles beside blankets.

Cats love blankets.

Do you see the problem?

THE HOUSE IS FULL OF FIRE.

🔥

And then humans look at us and say:

“Don't touch that.”

Excuse me?

You brought the tiny fire into my territory.

I am simply investigating.

---

🐾 Kitka Has a Different Opinion

I asked Kitka what she thought about the candle situation.

She was sleeping.

I asked again.

She opened one eye.

I said:

“Do you think humans have too many candles?”

She closed her eye.

This means yes.

Or possibly that she wanted me to leave.

Kitka communicates efficiently.

---

🐈‍⬛ Spurka Is Suspicious

Spurka, meanwhile, believes candles are part of a secret human ritual.

She watches the flame.

She watches the human.

She watches the shadows.

Then she watches the flame again.

Spurka is convinced something supernatural is happening.

I told her it's simply a scented candle.

She said:

“That's exactly what they want you to think.”

😳

Fair point.

---

🐱 Lenka Wants to Touch It

Lenka, naturally, tried to touch the flame.

We stopped her.

Lenka asked why.

We explained:

“Because FIRE.”

She stared at us.

Then at the candle.

Then at us.

Then she tried again.

Lenka has many qualities.

Common sense is not one of them.

---

🌿 What About Natural Scents?

Humans claim candles make the house smell “natural.”

Interesting.

Because outside there are:

🌲 Trees
🌧️ Rain
🍂 Leaves
🌿 Grass
🌸 Flowers

None of them are burning.

Perhaps humans have misunderstood nature.

Maybe nature's scent does not need to be recreated in a jar.

Maybe humans could simply open a window.

...

Oh.

It's October.

The human just closed the window because it's cold.

I understand now.

Candles.

---

🛋️ The Perfect Autumn Evening

I have developed a superior alternative.

Instead of:

🕯️ candle
☕ tea
📖 book
🎵 music

Try:

🐱 cat
🐱 another cat
🐱 third cat
🐱 fourth cat
🛋️ sofa
🧣 blanket
😴 nap

No fire.

No expensive fragrance.

No mysterious pumpkin.

No risk of burning the curtains.

And significantly more purring.

This is what I call advanced autumn living.

---

💰 The Financial Problem

There is also the question of money.

Humans spend money on candles.

Then they burn them.

Then they buy another candle.

Then they burn that one.

Then they buy another.

This is an endless cycle.

If humans spent that money on cat treats instead...

I have calculated that the household could achieve approximately:

More treats.

This is obviously the better investment.

I have prepared a spreadsheet.

It contains one column.

TREATS.

The numbers are encouraging.

---

🕯️ Gryzka's Candle Ratings

I have decided to rate the household candles.

🕯️ Vanilla

7/10

Smells like biscuits.

🕯️ Cinnamon

6/10

Interesting but aggressive.

🕯️ Pumpkin

4/10

Suspicious.

🕯️ Apple

5/10

Where is the apple?

🕯️ “Cozy Cabin”

2/10

There is no cabin.

🐱 Cat

10/10

Already available.

Completely natural.

Requires no batteries.

Produces warmth.

Sometimes purrs.

Occasionally bites.

Excellent overall.

---

🐾 Final Thoughts From Gryzka

So, humans...

If you want to buy another candle, I won't stop you.

I'm a cat.

I don't control your finances.

Apparently.

But before you put another scented candle on the table, ask yourself:

Do I really need this?

Because you already have:

A warm home.

A soft blanket.

A cup of tea.

Autumn outside the window.

And, most importantly...

a cat.

🐯

A cat who smells faintly of warm fur, clean blankets and perhaps a distant memory of tuna.

What more could you possibly want?

Now, if you'll excuse me...

I'm going to sit beside the candle.

Not because I like it.

I'm simply going to stare at it until the human gets nervous.

It is important to maintain household security.

🕯️👀🐾

Love,

Gryzka 🐯

Chief Inspector of Suspicious Household Scents
Director of Natural Feline Fragrance
Founder of the “We Already Have Cats” Movement