And I’m too old for that crap.
Over the weekend, Rupert took to sleeping in one of the chairs. Both chairs are identical and both have a nice fleece pad for softness and for catching cat detritus like hair and litter and skid-marks. Easier to launder the fleece than the entire chair, and I wish everything was as easy as laundering a fleece pad.
Moon is not happy about Rupert in the chair. Actually, Moon would like it if Rupert just stayed in his tan bed. Like a stuffed animal. Quiet and Still.
This morning Moon was pissed off enough about Rupert and the chair scenario that he kept trying to smack Rupert in the head, and this resulted in a very frustrated cat mommy trying to explain to her little bully that there IS another chair. The same chair he’s chosen to sleep in for the last several weeks.
Just like a misbehaving child, he only wants the other chair because Rupert is in it. Even though he has his own chair, there must be something special about the one he’s not in. So, as I’m getting ready for work, I’m attempting to appease Moon the entire time by explaining to him that there’s nothing special about the damn chair. That they are both the same and that he’s just being a brat. That’s when I realized that there was something special about the chair that he’s not in: the throw blanket.
When I spend time in the room, I do it from the floor, and my floor is cold and hard and uncomfortable, so I use a throw blanket. When I leave the room, I just toss it over the arm of the one chair so that it’s there upon my return. The other chair does not have a throw blanket. Just a fleece pad. I thought, OMG, he can’t be that petty, but I went into the bedroom, got another throw blanket, and put it over the arm of the apparently naked chair. Just to see what would happen.
Five minutes. That’s all it took. Moon was up in the other chair with his body squeezed onto the bit of blanket that was draped over the chair cushion.
When I left for work, Rupert and Moon were both asleep, in their respective chairs.