Trust no one

This oppressive and authoritarian regime just gets worse and worse. Surveillance increases daily. The secret police are everywhere.

Mrs Danvers follows us around, and takes photos of us, wherever we are. We have to talk outside, because she eavesdrops.

We have to stay alert. She creeps up on us.

She also gets phone calls; her spies watch our every move. One rang last night to say that Lottie was on the landing in a neighbour's house a few doors down, being made a great fuss of by a visitor. So? Another rule that we didn't know about, evidently!

Another rang to say that Scooter was on the roof of next door's shed, and that she had taken a picture of him from her bathroom window. And someone else rang the doorbell yesterday to say that Millie was out in the street. So it's not just Mrs Danvers who follows us; we are photographed and tailed in the street too. Our freedom of association is being restricted; our Feline Rights are being abused!

Mrs Danvers smiles politely, and thanks her informants, but then she looks at us, and her eyes aren't smiling any more. She says we are too fond of consorting with undesirable elements for her liking. We are exposing ourselves to bad influences, and turning into dissidents.

She lures us all indoors and locks the cat flap early. She says it's for our own good. It is clear that she is rattled, and feels that her prison warden skills are under criticism.

We are going to hold a meeting, under cover of darkness. The Revolution needs to be planned. We have nothing to lose but our chains. And our cat flap lock.