Sunday morning, I was comfortably ensconced on the sofa, coffee cup close at hand, book opened and propped up on the fat sofa arm. Ahh, bliss! I began to read and was just getting into the story when Phoebe (one of our cats – who thinks she is the Queen of the house) sat at my feet and stared up at me from the floor. Stared. At. Me. I was taking up all the space of her favourite sleeping spot — the arm of the sofa. It’s hers – we all know it.
She sat there and stared up at me, as if to say “Ahem, you are in MY spot!” I was comfy, cozy and definitely determined not to move over, especially to accommodate that cat! So, I stayed put. She just stared up at me – unblinking. I turned my attention back to my book, but she knew I wasn’t doing any reading.
Finally, my persistence paid off — she turned away. She got the hint that I wasn’t going to back down — uh uh, no way, no how. SHE was going to have to find a new place to take her little cat naps! I won!!
But wait! She hadn’t given up… she jumped up onto the arm and squeezed herself into a teeny space between the edge of the sofa arm and my book, wiggled a bit, then folded herself into a royal pose wearing a smug cat smile. I tried, I really did, but I just couldn’t relax with her perched in that precarious position.