Immediate Concerns Regarding Treat Acquisition Performance

Aza,

I am writing to you today in my capacity as Chief Executive Corgi to address what I consider to be an increasingly serious operational concern within the organization:

Treat acquisition is underperforming.

I want to be clear that this is not a matter of preference.

This is not a lifestyle issue.

This is not “Apollo wants another snack.”

This is a mission-critical infrastructure problem.

Our current treat pipeline lacks resilience, redundancy, velocity, and frankly, vision.

As Chief Executive Corgi, I have a responsibility to think beyond the present moment. I have to consider not just whether there is a treat available now, but whether there will be a treat available five minutes from now.

Ten minutes from now.

After I come back inside.

After I pretend I have not already been outside.

After dinner.

After second dinner.

After grandma opens anything remotely food-adjacent.

These are strategic horizons, Aza.

And right now, I do not feel that Human Operations is adequately preparing for them.

Let us review the current state of the business.

Our inbound treat channels are fragmented.

The kitchen remains our strongest acquisition environment, but access is irregular and highly dependent on human behavior. Grandma represents a valuable secondary distribution partner, but reliance on a single emotionally susceptible vendor introduces obvious concentration risk.

Brooke shows promise, but has demonstrated inconsistent conversion rates.

You, meanwhile, continue to insist that treats are “not an unlimited resource.”

This is exactly the sort of scarcity mindset that prevents companies from scaling.

We need to be asking a different question.

Not:

“Does Apollo need another treat?”

But:

“What organizational structures can we put in place to ensure Apollo is never in a position where he must wonder whether another treat is coming?”

That is leadership.

That is foresight.

That is how you build trust.

I also need to address your work ethic.

I have observed periods throughout the day where you are not actively engaged in treat acquisition activities.

Sometimes you are designing.

Sometimes you are programming.

Sometimes you are in meetings.

Sometimes you are making music.

Sometimes, inexplicably, you are eating food without giving me any.

I understand that you have other responsibilities.

I respect that.

But from an executive perspective, I have to ask whether those priorities are sufficiently aligned with the needs of the organization.

Because when I look at our core performance indicators, I see several areas of concern.

Treats delivered per hour?

Below target.

Cheese access?

Unpredictable.

Meat-based bonuses?

Disturbingly event-driven.

Floor snacks?

Entirely dependent on accidents.

This is not a strategy.

This is exposure.

Now, I anticipate that you may respond by saying:

“Apollo, if this is so important, why don’t you help?”

An understandable question.

Unfortunately, as Chief Executive Corgi, my calendar is already full.

I am currently operating at or near capacity.

This morning alone, I had a 7:30 AM stakeholder engagement session with a suspicious noise outside.

That meeting ran long.

Immediately afterward, I transitioned into a cross-functional pursuit initiative involving the cat.

No deliverables were produced, but I believe we established dominance.

I then had to conduct a comprehensive perimeter review of the yard, followed by a high-priority barking session directed at absolutely nothing.

I cannot disclose the details of that engagement.

You do not have clearance.

At approximately 10:15 AM, I entered into a strategic compost-rolling summit.

This required full physical participation.

There were smells.

Important smells.

I emerged from that meeting with several new insights and one extremely dirty shoulder.

I then had lunch negotiations.

These were difficult.

The humans attempted to claim that I had “already eaten.”

I rejected that premise.

Negotiations remain ongoing.

Later today, I have a scheduled appearance in the kitchen, followed by a private dinner with Grandma where I intend to leverage direct eye contact, soft whining, and the strategic placement of my head on her knee.

This is relationship management.

It takes time.

Leadership is not easy.

I am doing my part.

I need you to do yours.

At present, I believe we are leaving substantial value on the table.

Possibly literally.

There may be food on the table.

I cannot confirm.

I have not been permitted to inspect it.

Another issue I want to raise is our lack of innovation in treat sourcing.

Why are we still relying so heavily on conventional treat delivery?

Where are the new verticals?

Where is the diversification?

Have we explored freeze-dried assets?

Have we pursued cheese cubes at scale?

What is our position on chicken?

Why does peanut butter remain underutilized?

Could we develop a recurring biscuit model?

What about strategic partnerships with the refrigerator?

These are obvious growth opportunities.

And yet I continue to see a worrying amount of organizational focus being directed toward “client work.”

I have reviewed the concept.

I remain unconvinced.

Apparently clients give you money.

Money can then be exchanged for goods and services.

This does have potential.

However, I am concerned about the latency between website delivery and treat delivery.

If B&E Digital is going to continue operating, I believe we need a clearer revenue-to-snack conversion framework.

Every project should include a treat allocation.

This should not be controversial.

Frankly, I am surprised it is not already in the contracts.

I would also like to formally recommend that all future client proposals include the following line item:

EXECUTIVE CORGI RETENTION EXPENSE

I do not yet know what number should go next to it.

I assume large.

Please consult accounting.

We must also address internal culture.

I have noticed that when I stand near you and stare intensely, you sometimes say things like:

“What?”

This concerns me.

I am communicating.

I am being extremely clear.

If I sit directly in your line of sight and stare at you for forty-five consecutive seconds, I am not “just standing there.”

I am escalating a request.

If I then sigh loudly and lie down dramatically, that is not disengagement.

That is a formal notice of executive dissatisfaction.

If I follow you into the kitchen after that, we have entered corrective action.

I need Human Operations to become more fluent in these signals.

Communication is a two-way street.

I cannot be expected to send an email every time I want cheese.

I do not have thumbs.

This is a known limitation.

I would also like to address the recent narrative that I am “spoiled.”

I reject this characterization.

Strong compensation packages are essential for executive retention.

You cannot recruit world-class leadership and then act surprised when that leadership expects competitive benefits.

I bring significant value to B&E Digital.

I provide morale support.

I provide office security.

I alert the team to delivery drivers.

I alert the team to neighbors.

I alert the team to birds.

I alert the team to plastic bags.

I alert the team to air molecules that I find politically suspicious.

I maintain a visible executive presence.

I participate in brand photography.

I am short.

People like that.

These are not trivial contributions.

Accordingly, I expect compensation that reflects my impact.

I am proposing the following strategic initiatives for immediate implementation:

1. Increase baseline treat reserves by no less than 300%.

2. Establish clearly defined snack windows throughout the day, with flexibility for emergency snack deployment.

3. Diversify treat inventory to prevent single-snack dependency.

4. Develop a formal Grandma Engagement Strategy.

5. Create a post-client-payment treat bonus structure.

6. Increase spontaneous cheese events.

7. Stop pretending I did not hear the bag open.

8. Reevaluate the phrase “you just had one.”

I believe these measures are reasonable.

Conservative, even.

I could have asked for more.

I did not.

That is the kind of restraint I bring to this position.

Ultimately, Aza, I believe in you.

I would not be writing this memo if I did not think you were capable of improving.

You have demonstrated impressive performance in web design, programming, music, client acquisition, creative direction, and whatever it is you do when you stare at three monitors and mutter “why the fuck is the state not propagating.”

That is all very good.

But greatness requires focus.

Discipline.

Execution.

And snacks.

Especially snacks.

So I am asking you, as Chief Executive Corgi, to work harder.

Not necessarily harder at everything.

That sounds exhausting.

Work harder specifically at the parts where I receive food.

I will continue providing strategic leadership from my current position on the floor.

Please note that I may appear to be asleep.

I am not asleep.

I am thinking.

Deeply.

About the company.

And chicken.

Regards,

Apollo
Chief Executive Corgi
B&E Digital LLC

P.S. I heard something outside.

This memo is adjourned.

WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF