Dear Household, Regarding My Elevated Office

A clarification regarding Gary’s office above the refrigerator, its strategic importance, and the household’s continued misunderstanding of executive elevation.

Dear Household,

There appears to be some confusion regarding my office above the refrigerator.

Specifically:

Why is there a cat bed above the refrigerator?

How did Gary get up there?

I would like to clarify that this arrangement was established almost immediately upon my arrival.

Mom looked at the available vertical infrastructure, looked at me, and made a practical decision:

Why fight what is obviously going to happen anyway?

A bed was placed above the refrigerator.

I moved in.

The matter was settled.

I Prefer an Appropriate Elevation

Some cats are satisfied with chairs.

Some enjoy sofas.

Others conduct their affairs from the floor.

I am not one of those cats.

When I enter a room, I assess the available vertical infrastructure.

Cabinet.

Shelf.

Refrigerator.

Furniture nobody expected a cat to stand on, like the mounted TV in the bedroom… The replacement one now.

The objective is simple:

How high can I get from here?

This is not recklessness.

This is site selection.

Mom Chose the Sensible Option

On my first day in the household, Mom understood something important.

I was going above the refrigerator.

This was not really a question.

She could spend the foreseeable future telling me to get down, moving me, blocking access, and pretending we were having a meaningful disagreement.

Or she could put a bed there.

She put a bed there.

I used it immediately.

I appreciate efficient decision-making.

Some humans require extensive training before accepting reality.

Mom showed promise early.

The best household policies are sometimes just formal recognition of what the cat was already going to do.

The Office Has Everything I Require

From my office, I can observe the kitchen.

I can monitor the hallway.

I can see who enters.

I can see who leaves.

I can determine whether food-related activity is occurring without my knowledge.

I can monitor the living room.

I can sleep.

I can wake up briefly, verify that everyone remains where I left them, and return to sleep.

These are important responsibilities.

The fact that the office contains a bed should not be interpreted as evidence that no work is occurring.

Many executives spend substantial portions of the day appearing unavailable.

There Are Advantages to Being Above Everyone

From floor level, you see ankles.

From countertop level, you see activity.

From above the refrigerator, you see everything.

This includes:

opening cabinets,

unauthorized snacks,

suspicious refrigerator activity,

humans entering the kitchen under the mistaken impression that nobody is watching,

and Galaxy.

Usually below me.

Regarding Galaxy

Galaxy has not visited the office.

I understand there may be logistical reasons for this.

I have been specifically advised that discussing those reasons in detail would be “rude.”

I therefore will not mention her weight.

I will only observe that our approaches to vertical mobility differ.

I climb.

Galaxy manages from below.

Every organization benefits from clear departmental responsibilities.

Galaxy would like the record to reflect that effective leadership does not require climbing on kitchen cabinets.

Duly noted from above the cabinets.

The Highest Available Position Is Usually Correct

This preference is not limited to the kitchen.

In any room, I generally identify the highest available position.

Then I attempt to occupy it.

Sometimes this location was designed for cats.

Sometimes it very clearly was not.

I do not consider this distinction particularly useful.

Height provides security.

Visibility.

Perspective.

And the ability to stare down at the household while looking considerably more important than I did at ground level.

Humans pay extra for offices with views.

Mine came with a refrigerator.

Please Do Not Relocate My Office

The current arrangement works.

I use the bed regularly.

I know how to get there.

I know how to get down.

Mom no longer has to pretend she can prevent me from occupying the highest part of the kitchen.

I no longer have to pretend I was considering her opinion.

This is what professionals call a successful compromise.

Final Position

The bed above the refrigerator is not strange.

It is not wasted space.

It is not an accident.

It is the result of one human making a good decision on the first day.

I consider the matter settled.

Please direct future kitchen-related concerns upward.

I will be monitoring.

Regards,
Gary
Director of Emotional Escalation
CatSassy

This correspondence was issued from a position Mom wisely chose not to contest.

Gary explains why his bed above the refrigerator was a day-one management decision, why altitude matters, and why fighting the inevitable is poor household policy.