Cahfee the Cat

My dear sister/assistant Margarita has moved in to be a full time help to me. And with Margarita has come her old, crotchety, very fat cat named Cahfee.

Cahfee is a pleasant animal. Mainly because she doesn't make noise, is potty trained, and in general is very low maintenance. However, Cahfee seems to have an affinity for my particular roosts in the house. For instance, there is a certain place where I always sit in the den. This is the seat that Cahfee has chosen. Not really a big deal, because I rarely sit down in the den, but still interesting. The place where I sit almost incessantly, is my desk chair.

Everytime I leave the house and return, Cahfee is happily stretched out on my chair, and refuses, REFUSES, to move. The first time this happened I was so obliging as to work around her. But then it occurred to me that this was ridiculous. So the next time, I moved Cahfee--big fat unwieldy Cahfee. She hissed and growled in transit, but didn't actually lash out. Well, yesterday when I attempted to move her, she hissed, growled and scratched at me, oh, and actually attempted to bite my arm.

I do not shudder from entering into battle or the fray as it were, but I didn't relish the thought of excessive claw and tooth abrasions on my hands and arms. Chiefly because I spend a bit of time everyday washing dishes and cleaning gross stuff. So it takes awhile for these things to heal.

I stepped back and looked at Cahfee. She laid back, gazed steadily at me, and seemed to say clear as day, " I'm not moving, so go about your business."

Not to be deterred, a went to the back of the big chair, lifted it carefully at an angle, and dumped Cahfee off. She was surprised at my brilliance, and hasn't sat upon my chair since.