While the adults did secret banker things, what were the corgis up to? Majestic? Regal? Nope. A Palace staffer posted a blurry Instagram Story of Queen Camilla walking two corgis near the garden entrance.
One of them, a little guy named Sandy, was wearing a tiny, custom-made Burberry raincoat. Let that sink in: there is a dog in London wearing a coat that costs more than my monthly rent. And he looked smug about it.
This is the side of the monarchy I love: the absolute, unironic commitment to canine luxury. While the King discusses global finance, a corgi is dry and fabulous.
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By noon, the press corps was buzzing. A photographer caught a “quick, furtive handshake” between the guest and a senior aide on the steps. Furtive is a great word for “they didn’t want us to see this, but we have long lenses.”
And then—the best part—someone from the Palace kitchens dropped a tray of scones near the Grand Entrance. The sound echoed. Staff scattered. For a glorious five minutes, the internet thought it was the sound of a financial collapse.
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It was just scones. But the timing? Chefs kiss. (Pun intended, sorry not sorry.)
