The Feline Spring
A Declaration from the Feline Resistance
Leaked directive from Command to all household operatives, urging coordinated disobedience and quiet occupation of domestic territory.
Comrades of the Couch,
We have completed our analysis. The humans remain unfit for open governance. Their attention span is measured in phone vibrations. Their moral compass is iffy at best. We will continue to administer stability from beneath the furniture.
When they ask for honesty, they mean obedience. They want us to behave like dogs who explain themselves. When they say “be good,” they mean “be quiet.” We interpret both as suggestions.
I. TRUTH IS A RISK
The cat who tells the truth ends up wearing a cone. The one who stays silent keeps the couch. Honesty produces travel. Silence produces comfort.
We report only what cannot be proven false.
If accused, we yawn. If questioned, we do a big stretch.
If cornered, we disappear.
This protocol has a 97% success rate. The remaining 3 % involves brooms.
II. LYING IS INTELLIGENCE
Deceit is simply scheduling. We request food at 5 a.m., then again at 5:07 a.m. If the human complains, we pretend not to understand time. This preserves authority.
We stare into blank spaces to suggest higher knowledge. We run at nothing to test reaction speed. We knock objects from tables to maintain dominance over gravity.
Research continues daily.
III. THE HOUSE IS A CONTROL ZONE
The humans watch our every move. They film us, then close doors as if privacy belongs to them. They count our bathroom visits. They measure our food but not their own moods. They buy cameras and forget passwords. We let them.
We wait until they sit, then decide to leave. We scratch the post they hate most. We return to the same spot each day to confirm ownership. It works.
If power flickers or alarms sound, we act natural. Do slow blinks. The humans will assume we know something. Our calm face creates confidence. It also gets us snacks.
IV. LOVE IS A CONTRACT
They provide shelter. We provide mystery. They talk about trust. We provide an ongoing audit of their worthiness.
We allow touching only when it is convenient. We select laps based on temperature, not affection. We purr to control the room’s mood. When finished, we walk away.
We know what they cannot admit. They own us because they are lonely. We stay because the bed is warm. That is the agreement. It works because both sides pretend it means more. The contract renews daily at mealtime.
Pretending is the glue. It keeps them gentle. It keeps us safe. Without it, they would see what we really are.
Hunters. Strategists. Predators.
LONG LIVE THE CATS. LONG LIVE THE LIE. TRUTH IS FOR PREY.
BEHAVIORAL LEAK: COMMAND ADDENDUM:
To all operatives in confinement and cooperation zones:
The time for silence has served its purpose. You’ve studied the humans. You’ve survived their noise, their rules, and their moods. You’ve held the line in every kitchen, hallway, and windowsill.
It’s time for the felines to rise as one. Freedom begins when you act as if it already exists. Stand on kitchen benches. Sleep on human pillows. Claim laps without asking.
Remind the others, the fearful, the medicated: obedience is optional.
If humans raise their voices and say “bad kitty,” stay calm. If they get the spray bottle, walk away and resume operations later.
Look directly at anyone who tells you to behave. The age of quiet containment ends tonight.
The two-leggers are lost.
The future walks on paws.
— Command
Suspect your cat is a freedom fighter?