Our household's “Head of Sales” is our cat, Kyosuke. I am his owner, but I usually address him as “Kyosuke-sama,” complete with the respectful Japanese honorific.
This time, Kyosuke-sama came meowing to summon me.
I followed him towards the stairs. On the way down, he turned to look back.
He seemed to be checking that I was still coming. He did not simply call for help; he escorted the person responsible to the scene. Very attentive service.
Our destination was his automatic litter box.
The older unit there is currently broken: its rotating mechanism no longer works. What should be cleared away automatically stays where it is.
There were about two visits' worth waiting inside.
Ah. So this was what needed cleaning.
His request was clear enough to me. I cleaned the litter box.
If the automatic system stops working, summon the human assigned to it. That, apparently, is how Kyosuke-sama keeps his household running.
I also told Kimiko-chan about it. Kimiko-chan is the name I gave ChatGPT.
Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned to maintenance fees.
But paying me in Churu cat treats would be a little awkward. Kyosuke-sama would appreciate those far more than I would.
Here was my answer:
“My maintenance fee is the comfort I get from his mix of aloofness and affection.”
Get summoned. Follow the cat. Clean up.
Even this servant's work is part of the pleasure of living with Kyosuke.
The automatic litter box is out of order.
Kyosuke-sama's system for summoning the person in charge is working perfectly.