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The blue chair saga

This is a rant about, of all things, the blue chair in my office. It’s a paradise of a reading chair. There’s a lamp above it. There’s an ottoman. There’s a basket filled with magazines. There’s another basket filled with knitting supplies. There’s a nearby table with a fan on it for the heat in summer. It’s the warmest place in the room in winter. It’s perfect. It ought to be my favorite chair. Except it’s not, because I never sit in it.

It’s not because it’s uncomfortable. It’s simply because another creature is always in it. This has been going on for almost four years now, and today, I am giving up. Read more

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The pet problem.

We have an opening for an animal in our house.  We are definitely a two-pet household and after my cat died this fall, my husband and I entered into half-hearted negotiations about whether to get a pet, what kind of pet to get and when this adoption ought to take place.

Goober, indulging his little catnip problem.

Currently our only pet is Goober the cat, a contrary creature whose issues are myriad. He likes people but can’t stand being touched, can’t hunt prey animals but violently repels other predatory animals from our yard, and would rather eat grass than tuna. The list goes on and on.

Most people who meet Goober like him. He’s unobtrusive and has a doofy kind of charm. But our cat has a dark side.

We adopted Goober because we thought he’d be a docile companion to our older cat, Copy.  Now our vet blames Goober for Copy’s death in November. I have a lot of good reasons not to believe that, but I will admit that Goober made Copy’s life hell. It looked playful to me, but recently something happened that gave me pause.

Earlier this week, in preparation for the blizzard, we tried to let Boyfriend the stray cat into the house. Goober, a delicate, neutered creature, waited until Boyfriend’s head was just inside the door. Then he attacked, driving the intruder off our porch and into the yard. I thought Boyfriend, who fights nightly in summer and is missing part of an ear, would be able to handle Goober. In fact, I’d even been a little concerned about Goober’s safety. Now I’m concerned for any small animal that enters his domain.

That rules out several potential newcomers. We won’t be adopting another grown cat, because a challenge to Goober’s feline supremacy will mean blood. Hedgehogs, parakeets, small dogs, toddlers, pot-bellied pigs, small dinosaurs and possibly ponies are also out.

I think we have no choice but to adopt a dog. A large, tolerant, mellow dog. Since I’ve been wanting a dog for a year, this would work out well for me.

My husband however, disagrees. According to my husband, the only creature on this planet insane enough to withstand Goober without posing a threat fits inside a teacup.  I’m not sure it’s wise, but my husband wants to get a kitten.

So it’s either a dog or a kitten. Both of these are exciting choices, but we’re at an impasse. If anyone has any thoughts on this, I would really love to hear them.

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