SOMEWHERE IN THE CLOUD
🐾 The Royal Guard Procurement — Part I 🐾
A promising security appointment, a deeply confusing geographical destination, and a series of administrative decisions made without the King's approval.
There I was...
On my dining room table pillow.
My pillow.
My table.
My kingdom.
Still recovering from the deeply unsettling conversation in which Lil Human had suggested acquiring another boy cat.
I had hoped the matter would simply disappear.
After all, Big Human had said nothing definite.
There had been no formal applications.
No interviews.
No consultation with the King.
And most importantly...
No carrier.
Perhaps common sense had prevailed.
Perhaps Big Human had finally recognized that three cats were sufficient.
Perhaps I could return to the important business of managing my estate.
Then I heard Big Human talking.
Again.
About a cat.
Naturally.
I opened one eye.
Apparently, she had been communicating with a very nice lady from somewhere called...
Cats in the Cloud.
...
I'm sorry.
WHERE?
Cats.
In.
THE cloud.
I sat up.
THE cloud?
Which cloud?
Is there only one?
And how exactly does Big Human intend to locate it?
Are we acquiring cats from the sky now?
Is there some sort of elevated feline settlement I have not been informed about?
How does one even get a cat into a cloud?
And more importantly, how does one get it back down?
I have seen clouds.
They are very high.
They move.
They occasionally produce rain.
They do not appear to have floors.
I fail to see how this is an appropriate environment for raising security personnel.
Nevertheless, Big Human seemed perfectly comfortable with the arrangement.
Of course she did.
This is the same woman who brought Sarah into my kingdom without conducting a single formal risk assessment.
I continued listening.
Apparently, the cat in question was an adult male Maine Coon.
...
Oh.
OH.
Now we were getting somewhere.
Adult.
Male.
Maine Coon.
Large.
Substantial.
Potentially useful.
Precisely the sort of candidate I had outlined during the preliminary Royal Guard discussions.
Perhaps Big Human had been listening after all.
Perhaps my recommendations had finally reached the appropriate department.
Perhaps...
ROYAL GUARD PROCUREMENT WAS UNDERWAY.
I straightened.
This required my full attention.
Then I heard something else.
Apparently, this particular gentleman was a...
Retired stud cat.
...
Excuse me?
Retired?
As in...
Old?
Finished?
No longer fit for active duty?
I had specifically requested a large, capable male suitable for protective security operations.
Not a gentleman seeking a comfortable pension and a sunny place to spend his remaining years.
What exactly was his retirement package?
Would he require special accommodations?
Reduced patrol hours?
An orthopedic pillow?
I already have a pillow.
And I am not sharing it.
But then there was the other word.
Stud.
...
WAIT.
A stud cat?
A STUD CAT?!
I nearly fell off my table.
Was Big Human planning to BREED CATS?!
Was this the beginning of some sort of feline manufacturing operation?
We already had Sarah.
Sarah was a girl.
This new gentleman was apparently a professional producer of additional cats.
I began calculating.
One Sarah.
One stud.
Potential kittens.
More kittens.
Entire generations of kittens.
WE WOULD BE OVERRUN.
There would be kittens in the hallway.
Kittens on the furniture.
Kittens in my sunbeam.
Kittens eating my food.
Kittens using my pillow.
And eventually...
Kittens having kittens.
An entire feline population explosion.
All because Big Human had apparently decided that three cats were insufficient and needed to establish a breeding operation in my kingdom.
Absolutely not.
I was preparing to file an emergency objection when I reconsidered the description.
Retired stud cat.
Retired.
Stud.
Together.
Hmm.
Perhaps this meant his kitten-production duties had concluded.
Perhaps he was no longer involved in the manufacturing process.
Perhaps he was simply a large, experienced gentleman seeking a new professional opportunity.
Well.
That was different.
A mature male.
With experience.
Presumably considerable physical presence.
And no intention of producing an army of tiny, screaming replacements.
Promising.
Very promising.
I resumed listening.
Big Human was quite taken with the gentleman.
Apparently, he was sweet.
Affectionate.
Handsome.
And large.
Excellent.
Although I would have preferred to hear more about his qualifications in perimeter security, threat assessment, and obedience to established authority.
Still.
One cannot expect every applicant to arrive with a complete résumé.
Then Big Human mentioned his name.
Maverick.
Hmm.
Maverick.
A respectable name.
Strong.
Decisive.
Somewhat independent-sounding.
Potentially problematic in a subordinate.
But respectable.
I could work with Maverick.
Perhaps Sergeant Maverick.
Or Colonel Maverick.
Colonel sounded impressive.
Although I would need to make it perfectly clear that the title was honorary and did not supersede my own authority.
I am the King.
There can be no confusion about this.
Unfortunately, Lil Human had apparently developed her own ideas.
She wanted to call him...
Moses Toeses.
...
I'm sorry.
MOSES TOESES?!
What kind of military designation is that?
One cannot command a security operation with an officer named Moses Toeses.
Imagine an intruder entering the premises.
"MOSES TOESES! DEFEND THE WESTERN PERIMETER!"
Ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
Although...
There was apparently a reason for the name.
The gentleman had extra toes.
...
Extra toes?
I considered this.
Normal paws are already formidable instruments.
I have personally demonstrated their effectiveness on numerous occasions.
But additional toes?
Additional equipment?
Increased paw surface?
Potentially enhanced smacking capabilities?
NOW THAT IS AN INTERESTING QUALIFICATION.
Perhaps Lil Human had accidentally identified a valuable tactical advantage.
A large male Maine Coon.
Experienced.
Retired from kitten production.
Equipped with additional toes.
This was beginning to sound like a highly specialized security appointment.
Naturally, all paw-related enforcement activities would occur under my direct supervision.
I would establish the rules.
I would identify the threats.
I would determine when a smack was warranted.
And Sergeant...
No.
Colonel...
Hmm.
We would address the name later.
For now, I approved of the equipment.
Then Big Human began discussing logistics.
Flights.
Schedules.
Arrival times.
Transportation.
Arrangements for Lil Human.
And a very sweet human whom Lil Human calls Gigi.
Apparently, Gigi would be staying at the house with Lil Human while Big Human traveled to retrieve the new security officer.
...
Traveled?
As in...
LEFT THE KINGDOM?
For a cat?
I listened more closely.
Big Human was going to get on an airplane.
An actual airplane.
To retrieve this gentleman from the cloud.
...
Well.
I suppose that explained the name.
Cats in the Cloud.
Of course.
How else would one retrieve a cat from the sky?
Apparently, this was an airborne operation.
Unusual.
Expensive.
Logistically complicated.
But I had to admit...
Big Human was taking this Royal Guard procurement rather seriously.
She was personally traveling into the cloud to collect my new security officer.
I would have preferred ground-level recruitment.
But perhaps the best candidates were located at higher elevations.
I do not pretend to understand the current feline labor market.
The important thing was that Big Human had arranged transportation.
The candidate had been selected.
And a date had been established.
The Royal Guard was coming.
I began preparing mentally.
There would need to be an orientation.
A tour of the estate.
An explanation of the chain of command.
A review of the dining arrangements.
And, naturally, a formal introduction to Sarah.
Sarah would need to understand that the new gentleman was not a climbing apparatus.
Finan would need to understand that this was a security appointment, not another opportunity to acquire a best friend.
Malachi would need to refrain from being Malachi.
Matilda would likely handle matters professionally.
And I...
I would oversee everything.
As King.
As Chairman of the Feline Procurement Committee.
And now, apparently...
Commander of the Royal Guard.
A title I found quite suitable.
At last, the day arrived.
There was considerable activity.
Big Human was preparing to leave.
Lil Human was excited.
Gigi had arrived.
And I was attempting to maintain an appropriate level of executive composure.
After all, one does not become visibly enthusiastic over the arrival of a subordinate.
Particularly a subordinate who has not yet demonstrated respect for the monarchy.
Big Human gathered her things.
There was movement toward the door.
Final instructions.
Goodbyes.
And then...
She was gone.
Off to the cloud.
To retrieve Maverick.
Or Moses Toeses.
Or Sergeant Maverick.
Or Colonel Moses.
...
This was going to become administratively complicated.
I would need to issue an official designation.
Something simple.
Something dignified.
Something that could be shouted across the kingdom in the event of an emergency.
I considered Colonel Maverick.
Yes.
That would do.
For now.
Assuming he passed inspection.
The hours passed.
The house continued operating.
Lil Human remained with Gigi.
Sarah remained Sarah.
Finan continued being generally pleased with his existence.
And I waited.
Patiently.
Mostly.
I checked the door.
I returned to my table.
I checked the door again.
I inspected the hallway.
Nothing.
No Big Human.
No carrier.
No Royal Guard.
I was beginning to question the efficiency of this airborne recruitment process.
How long could it possibly take to retrieve one cat?
Even a large one?
Was there a delay in the cloud?
Had the candidate refused boarding?
Had his additional toes complicated the paperwork?
Had Big Human discovered that clouds were, in fact, unsuitable for ground transportation?
I had questions.
Unfortunately, no one was providing answers.
Eventually, evening became night.
Lil Human and Gigi retired to bed.
The Padfoots settled in with them.
Finan found somewhere comfortable to sleep.
Sarah, having exhausted herself through an entire day of being Sarah, finally became unconscious.
And the kingdom fell silent.
I returned to my dining room table pillow.
My pillow.
My table.
My throne.
But sleep did not come easily.
Somewhere beyond the walls of my estate, Big Human was traveling through the night with a large, orange, extra-toed gentleman who was apparently about to become my personal security officer.
I considered the possibilities.
Would he be enormous?
Would he understand instructions?
Would he respect my position?
Would he be useful against intruders?
Would he attempt to occupy my table?
Would he eat my food?
Would he mistake Finan for a training exercise?
And most importantly...
Would he recognize his commanding officer?
I closed my eyes.
Perhaps I would meet him in the morning.
Perhaps Big Human would return quietly.
Perhaps the new gentleman would understand that introductions should be conducted during normal administrative hours.
Perhaps...
I drifted off.
Sometime in the wee hours...
I woke.
The house was still.
Sarah was asleep.
Finan was asleep.
The Padfoots were tucked away with Gigi and Lil Human.
No one moved.
But I had heard something.
I lifted my head from my pillow.
Listened.
There it was again.
A sound outside.
A vehicle.
In the driveway.
...
BIG HUMAN.
I sat upright.
My ears turned toward the front of the house.
Silence.
Then...
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The keypad.
At the front door.
I stood.
The fur along my shoulders shifted as I stretched.
My tail rose.
My kingdom was about to change.
Again.
Big Human had returned from the cloud.
And somewhere on the other side of that door...
Was the gentleman I had been waiting for.
The retired stud.
The enormous Maine Coon.
The extra-toed security specialist.
The candidate for Royal Guard.
Colonel Maverick.
I stared toward the door.
One final thought occurred to me.
Surely Big Human had explained who was in charge.
The lock clicked.
— TO BE CONTINUED —
— 🐾 Marlowe — ToeBean-in-Charge 🐾
King of the Household
Chairman of the Feline Procurement Committee
Commander of the Royal Guard
Awaiting Delivery of One (1) Large Male Security Officer
I TRUST THE CHAIN OF COMMAND HAS BEEN EXPLAINED. 🐾