Sunday, July 11, 2004
The Green Chair
Josie and I have been fighting over the green chair. It all started innocently enough, the week before last I went to St. Vincent De Paul to pick up some furniture. The goal was to get a few items that would be somewhat permanent—a kitchen table, some kitchen chairs; and then a few items that may or may not be permanent, a living room chair, miscellaneous stands. Pretty much, I was just tired of using the futon as the center of my life. It was really the only piece of furniture in the place, except for counters and the like. So read a book, eat dinner, go to bed, watch a DVD on my laptop, etc., etc., all happen on the futon. And since the furniture I want isn’t destined to arrive until the end of the month-beginning of August, I thought, “enough is enough.”
So while at St. Vincent De Paul, a great organization by the way, if you have one please donate to it occasionally, I spotted the green chair. It was a deep forest green, and my first though was, it will never fit with my imagined color scheme for the apartment. But I reminded myself, that that was okay, because at $20 it qualified as temporary furniture, and it looked better than its companion orange chair. Little did I know that the chair would be the subject of many forthcoming battles of wits and will between my cat and myself.
The chair was delivered, and as I struggled to haul it upstairs, I though wow, it’ll be nice to have an alternative seat that isn’t hardwood. Finally, the chairs through the door, and receives its first test. I flop down in it, and “Ahhhh, ohhh yeah, that’s nice.” I had plans for getting up and dragging up the kitchen table, but they were delayed. The cushions were soft, and it rolled backed slightly, almost like a rocker. I was cat-napping and day dreaming and no time. One of my daydreams was about how contrast could be used to accentuate living space, and a deep, dark green, could fit in with the muted tones I had planned for the living space.
Finally, I get up and go down for the kitchen table. I tape its folds, flip it on it’s back and drag it up the stairs. I set it up, then run down for the kitchen chairs. I come back feeling self-satisfied, and ready for another bout of chair relaxation, and…
...that’s right. Josie’s in the green chair. I try to shame her out. She looks at me with such disgust, then lies her head back down. Thwarted, I sit on the futon and plan my new battle strategy. Josie being the astute general she is, slept. (Damn cat!)
Such began, our daily battles. We are both adept tacticians in the military art of “you move you lose.” I claim victory when she goes to the litter box, the water bowl, the food bowl, or chasing the sun in the back bedroom. Fool, I cry. Assured my victory, no matter how brief. She claims victory when, I go to the bathroom, the store, or have to answer the telephone.
I’m certain, that while I’ve lost a battle here and there that the war is mine. Though Josie has adopted an interesting strategy as of late. It’s the, “so you relax in the chair, I relax on you strategy.” I’m not quite sure what to make of it. But master tactician I am, I’ll adapt.
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