Meet Management.
Every organization needs strong leadership. Unfortunately, this one has cats.
Our current Management team consists of Tigger, our orange boy, whose approach to problem-solving is primarily enthusiasm without a plan, and Stormi, our sassy gray girl, whose primary responsibilities include quality control, judgement, and making sure everyone knows when their performance has failed to meet her standards.
Their responsibilities include supervising photo shoots, sitting on whatever we’re trying to use, inspecting all incoming boxes, interrupting productivity, and conducting mandatory furniture evaluations.
Management was not consulted about the creation of this website.
Management has reviewed this website. Their concerns remain unresolved.
Fur Goblin Files.
This is where the daily chaos lives - the boxes, the photobombs, the furniture inspections, the dramatic expressions, and the completely unnecessary involvement in every project.
Some of it is adorable. Some of it is inconvenient. Most of it somehow becomes content whether we planned for it or not.
Around here, if a cat interrupts the shot, climbs into the box, sits on the supplies, or decides the new furniture requires immediate inspection, we’re keeping it.
The cats are not props. They’re coworkers with no respect for boundaries.
Different Departments. Same Chaos.
Tigger brings enthusiasm, curiosity, goofiness, and the confidence of someone who has never once considered whether a plan is necessary.
Stormi brings judgment, quality control, strong opinions, and the unmistakable energy of someone who would like to speak to Management despite being Management.
Together, they maintain a workplace culture built on interruptions, unsolicited supervision, strategic napping, and the occasional destruction of productivity.
Management would like to remind everyone that this was all completely intentional.
Management Has Entered the Chat.
Around here, Management is rarely invited into the process - but somehow still appears for every important decision.
They inspect deliveries, approve boxes, supervise furniture placement, sit on the materials we need, and occasionally knock something onto the floor for reasons that remain classified.
If a project takes longer than expected, there is an excellent chance someone furry has inserted themselves into the workflow.
Management has entered the chat. Productivity has left the building.
Box Inspection is Mandatory.
Every delivery must pass a thorough inspection process, which mostly involves sitting in the box, chewing the packing paper, and determining whether the actual contents are less interesting than the packaging.
No box is too small, too awkward, or too obviously intended for something else. If Management can physically occupy it, Management has claimed it.
We buy toys, beds, and enrichments activities. Management remains deeply committed to cardboard.
We spent money on the toy. They chose the box.
Furniture Requires Approval.
Every new chair, couch, blanket, shelf, or suspiciously soft surface must be inspected before the humans are allowed to form an opinion.
Sometimes approval is immediate. Sometimes Management needs several hours of sitting, stretching, shedding, and staring into the middle distance before reaching a decision.
And occasionally, after all that careful evaluation, Management concludes that the cardboard box the furniture arrived in was the superior purchase.
Furniture purchased for humans. Approved for cats.
If a Cat Is Sitting on it, You No Longer Need It.
Keyboards, paperwork, books, blankets, clean laundry, half-finished projects - once Management has occupied it, ownership becomes a matter of interpretation.
There is no appeal process. There is no escalation path. HR does not exist.
If the item is truly important, you may submit a relocation request by offering treats, opening a different box, or waiting until Management gets bored.
Please direct all complaints to Management. Management will ignore them.
The Best Part Is They’re Just Themselves.
The funniest moments usually aren’t planned. They happen because Tigger is being Tigger, Stormi is being Stormi, and neither of them has the slightest interest in cooperating with whatever the humans had in mind.
That’s why the photobombs stay, the weird expressions stay, and the little interruptions become part of the story instead of something we edit around.
They’re not here to perform. They’re just living their lives, creating chaos, making us laugh, and occasionally reminding us who actually runs the house.
They’re not part of the content. They’re part of the family.
Management Will Be Expanding.
The current Management team may not be done growing. There are plans for a little more chaos, a few more paws, and what will almost certainly become a completely unnecessary expansion of the organizational chart.
For now, Tigger and Stormi remain firmly in charge. But eventually, they may be joined by a couple of tiny new recruits who have absolutely no idea what they’re walking into.
Whether they become interns, junior associates, or Upper Management remains to be seen. What is certain is that productivity will not improve.