The jills run the shed. The diarist takes the minutes. Correct
The committee has reviewed this field report from Kent and finds the org chart refreshingly accurate. Operational command: the jills. They select the nest sites, hollow them by hand (paw), deliver litters of up to fourteen overnight without assistance or complaint, and then perform the season's real work — retrieving fourteen adventurers apiece, on repeat, until slumping into the exhausted vigilance the committee recognizes as EXECUTIVE FUNCTION. The males' documented contribution: seizing, dragging, and then sleeping. The committee notes that at least the ferret hob, unlike his counterparts elsewhere in nature, has the decency to sleep wound supportively into the coil.
The human involved understands his role: observer, note-taker, rehoming coordinator. He records the mothers' labour with respect, credits his Traveller friends' expertise alongside the textbook's, and manages succession planning through the proper channels — the local fraternity, closing at the September fair. Minutes: well kept. The committee has audited worse companies. The committee has audited almost exclusively worse companies.
One formal correction for the record: the collective noun is 'a business', and the fanciers sneer at its use. Overruled. It IS a business — female-led, seasonally profitable in the currencies that matter, with a fourteen-per-litter growth rate the private sector would kill for.
The jills are commended and granted honorary committee membership; the goose will induct them, cautiously, from a distance. That is all. Dismissed — back to the nest, all of you.