The Perfumery
Six mists. Zero colognes.
Each formula is built by perfumers, approved by cats (they were paid in treats, and one of them had a fit), and dosed for a 0.05 ml burst. The rule of the house: nothing that sounds like a meeting, nothing that lingers past tea.
Fleur de Chasse
Damask rose, honeysuckle, a hint of alley.
Vetiver Whisker
Vetiver, cedar, the memory of clean laundry.
Minty Prowl
Peppermint, cypress, quiet confidence.
Vanilla Vigil
Vanilla, amber, late afternoon.
Citrus Feral
Yuzu, bergamot, mild rebellion.
Sea Glass Trudge
Sea salt, driftwood, gentle fog.
The dosing principle
A Sentry dispenses 0.05 ml per burst — roughly one-tenth of a drop. Formulas are built to read as "the cat smells faintly of something pleasant" to a guest standing at arm's length, and as nothing at all from across the room. That is the entire spec.
Why we don't sell colognes
We tried. No. 7, "Boardroom Oud," lasted one prototype. Perfumes that smell like a person's ambition are not, in our view, compatible with a cat's dignity. The perfumery's door is closed to that whole category, forever.