Epic Battle
Ever since the boycat got here, he’s had his eyes on my computer chair. The chair I’ve owned for seven years, the padding of which has gotten so useless that I’ve taken to putting three old pillows on top of it to pad mah butt. The chair is set as low as it can, but with the pillows acting like a booster seat, I’m high enough to be comfortable at my computer. I honestly don’t know what I’ll have to do when this chair finally gives out, hehe.
Anyway, after the first few hours of sitting on every surface imaginable, the cat noticed my chair, and crawled into it while I was off doing something or another. He had sprawled clear across the pillows, paws every which way, and he was giving me a look like, “What? It was warm. Mine?” I picked up his furry butt and set him carefully upon the futon. Right about then he decided that the top of the closet with the clothes hamper looked comfy, and hopped up and disappeared.
Ever since, I sit in it during my awake hours, and he sleeps in it while I’m conked out on the futon. Sometimes he’ll sneak onto it while I’m in the bathroom, rummaging around the fridge, or otherwise out of the house. I’ll return a couple minutes or a few hours later and find him there, eyes squeezed shut as if he thinks I won’t disturb him if I think he’s sleeping, sprawled as big as he can across the entire seat.
The cat loves my lap. Especially in these cool months when the room’s always kept a little chilly, he’s either trying to lay on me in some way, or take over my recently vacated and still-warm chair. Just today, I lost count after about eight separate times that he hopped up into my lap with the intention of sleeping there. He even figured out a way to 1) let me type and 2) keep from falling off. That lasted about 40 minutes and then I needed to use the restroom.
When he can’t sleep on me or the chair, he snoozes on the little bamboo-and-cushion footstool next to me. But he can’t quite sprawl as the cushion has no edges and he could too easily fall off of that. So as soon as the chair is vacated, there he is in it, making himself at home, usually taking a bath there before settling in for a long nap.
Always in the morning (I always wake up before the druid), I pick up the cat and set him carefully on the futon in the same position I’d found him in. Sometimes he barely registers that he’s been relocated, and snoozes on. More often, though, he sees he’s been usurped, and becomes indignantly awake, munches on his food, and hops up on the footstool or lands on me in some fashion to be soothed and loved upon.
There’s nothing quite like being scared by a 20 lb. ball of short, light grey fluff flying at you, heading for either the high back of your chair, or your lap.
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Challenge yourself to Holidailies 2009 by writing one entry each day in December.
