A Hasty Epistle From My Business Trip.

By Eureka Hamilton CEO of ZealAus Publishing

Valued Customers.

This is the House Lion speaking to you, so shut up and pay attention.

You are beyond lucky that I can even find the time to write to you at this busy stage of year. It is currently the height of the social season in the Feline World and being a rich, supernaturally good-looking entrepreneur with a noble bloodline, I am a busy lion. 

I’m not going to burden your small homo sapient brains with all the details; it is enough for you to know that upon this season hangs the fate of the entire world.

If certain strategic mergers are not made within this small window of opportunity, a terrible, awful fate would befall the world.

NO MORE CATS!

And I think we all know what will happen to the human population if the cat populations ceases to exist.

Self-annihilation.

Indeed, that is a fact so self-evident the only question that warrants consideration is this:

Without our guidance and care, would your species self-annihilate due to depression or merely unfettered stupidity?

Fortunately for you, you’ll never know. Your Feline Overlords are compassionate on this issue and that is why, once a year, we get together to ensure that there will always be plenty of cats to rule over you.

This brings me to an important announcement regarding ZealAus Publishing. In my absence I have installed Stinking Sheila as my Designated Interim Leader.

Some of you will be asking why I would choose an intern I found under the pomegranate bush in the garden of Rose Bank House, for this great honour.

Although I admit that it would be more traditional to go with another member of the executive team, that is not an option in my case. I don’t have an executive team.

Seriously, who would be worthy of such an honour?

But interns have their uses.

Although this is currently an unpaid position, I have told Sheila to focus on networking.

I am confident it will grow into a paid position.

And that would be an excellent thing. Many a cold, wintery evening I have spent in front of the gas heater in Rose Bank House, wishing for a little female company of my own kind.

Yet all my attempts to move a lady into the house have been thwarted by my nitwit staff.

I have tried a formal introduction and they just yelled something foolish about “polluting the shades of Pemberley” and chased my love out. It was unkind and unjust.

 Polluting?

I hadn’t sprayed on anything. I was planning on it, but that’s not the point. At that point, nothing had been sprayed, and they had no business accusing me of such things. In any case, my deep, manly aroma, is not pollution.

 It’s pure art.  

I have tried literary motifs. I staged a whole reenactment of the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet. It was the most excellent piece of Shakespearian Acting you ever saw in your life. It is true I had to do a little editing. I was the ‘Glorious Sun’ and Juliet sang up to my balcony. But that was proper, because I am a much bigger catch than Skinny Legs Fosdike.

When that magnificent production failed, I even tried stealth and cunning.

I tried hiding a lady friend behind the hutch dresser in the kitchen, but she blew her cover when my staff opened my jelly meat tin.

Thus, I have taken advantage of the gaping void created by my absence to install  small Stinking Sheila. She is such a small cat, I have high hopes that my nitwit staff will hardly notice she is there.

And when I return from my long, extremely important business trip, they’re all so bad at maths, I doubt they’ll even be able to calculate  they have more than one cat basking in the delicious warmth of the gas heater.

Now, as I told you, I am a busy boy.

 So, goodbye.

I’ll talk to you again.

If I want too.

Regards, Eureka Hamilton, CEO (Cat Executive Officer) of ZealAus Publishing.

Post Script.

Eagle eyed viewers of my smash hit TV show, House Lion, will doubtless have noticed I am back as of the publication of this letter.

How typical of my lazy, inefficient staff.

 I told them to publish it as soon as it arrived a Rose Bank House, but of course, without me around to administer a little motivation, it didn’t happen.

And you can’t blame the intern for it either. You can’t expect a kitten to do a House Lion’s job!

A Hasty Epistle From My Business Trip is copywrite R.M. Hamilton 2025