This was my cats Scarlett’s chair at my parents’ house. She has good taste in chairs as it was the most comfortable chair in the house, but unfortunately it did not face the TEE-v so people rarely sat in it. That was just fine with Scarlett.
She’s so cute when she’s sleeping.
“What about when I’m awake?” (frown)
She loved to sit up on the back cushion of this chair, which was very wide and soft. It had a permanent slouch in the middle of the cushion from her sitting there so often. I imagine she liked sitting there not only because it was comfortable, but also because she could observe all of us sitting in the family room and see through the door opening into the kitchen to keep tabs on the activity in there as well. This is very important to her as she insists that her contribution to the household is to secure the premises. She’s not just a pretty face, ya know.
Because this was her favorite spot, I was a little bit nervous about how she would handle the move given that I was not taking her chair. It did cross my mind to take the chair but a) it’s not mine to take as it is part of the seating arrangement in my parents’ family room, b) it’s an enormous chair and would be way over-scaled for my 980 square foot apartment, and c) it would be absurd to bring a large chair for a cat.
So as we settled into our new apartment, I waited to see where Scarlett would perch. She quickly adopted one of my Aunt Anna’s chairs that I have in my apartment. I am sure it is no coincidence that she chose the one where she can stare me down as I watch TV from the sofa as she simultaneously watches birds flitting around on my deck through the glass door.
She has really taken to this chair.
As it is a tight-back chair, it isn’t comfortable to sit on the top of the chair (I would imagine), so she just kicks back on the seat cushion like a raccoon.
And looks regal.
Sometimes she falls asleep on the job.
“I heard that.” (stink-eye)
She’s really leaning into that armrest. Good thing it’s just her height.
While the chair is her usual hangout, she sometimes opts for the higher altitude of the back cushions on the sectional so she can see me if I’m at my desk or in the kitchen. These are not nearly as soft as the cushion on the chair she loved so dearly at my parents’ house so she is making her way around the sectional, breaking in each of the pillows for me. What would I do without her?
Y’all come back now, ya hear?