The Chair
I got an armchair in a breakup once, many many years ago. At the store it was called The Sweetheart, because the top of it was curved gently in the shape of the top of a heart. It was a great chair, but I didn’t pick it out. If I had, it would have been red. Or blue. Or some bright color, maybe purple? But I didn’t choose the color, a sage green. Not a horrible color, of course, just not…me.
Anyway, I acquired it in the breakup, and I loved it for many years. It was big, and cushy, and comfortable. It moved with me 3 times, and in different spots within different apartments. My cats loved this chair. Shelby, may she rest in kitty heaven, sat with me many a night in the chair, and saw me through a few relationships. Bertram and Elise, the cats I got with Husband, spent all of their five years of life on the chair. Angus, our third cat, learned how to navigate the chair, just like his brother and sister. It sat in the living room, next to our bright red couch, and across from the gigantic leather armchair and matching ottoman that Husband brought into our relationship so many years ago, now scratched up by the cats so much that it looked like it was meant to be that way.
During the pandemic, I decided I wanted to redecorate. We should have matching chairs, I thought, smaller ones that would fit in the spaces better. I didn’t want to bang my shin on that enormous ottoman anymore, and I just hated the color of the green armchair. Time to move on. I ordered a couple of chairs I saw online, in a nice neutral charcoal gray. Ordering chairs online? What was I thinking? I was a master of sitting on chairs and sofas to get the right feel. Well, furniture stores were not open at this stage of the pandemic, and I wanted matching chairs. How bad could they be? I made sure that the old chairs had places to go before I ordered the new ones. Finally, they arrived.
I moved the green chair into the middle of the living room to make room for the new chair, and all three cats immediately jumped on it. Bertram sat on the back of the chair, Elise draped herself on the arm, and Angus lay on the floor behind it, so that all we could see was his little black feet. Suddenly, I got emotional. The cats! Why had I not thought of the cats? I was the worst cat mother in the history of the world. How could I get rid of their chair? Stepson asked about the chair. “No one sits in that chair, anyway,” I said. “I sit in that chair,” he replied. Oops. Husband put his hand gently on my shoulder and said that the cats would adjust. Stepson would adjust.
We got the old chairs out, and put the new ones in. They were so cute! And small. And hard. And the backs weren’t big enough for a cat to sit on. What did I do? I moaned to Husband that the cats would never forgive me. He patted my hand.
Well, it’s been a couple of weeks, and sure enough, the new chairs are softer. I ordered a smaller matching ottoman, because the cats were jumping from the cat tree directly to the floor, and that just seemed unnecessary. They need something soft to land on. Best of all, each of the cats has spent time in the new chairs. Yes, I had to sprinkle the chairs with catnip. No, the cats aren’t completely used to them yet. But I am not the most horrible cat mother in the history of the world. Or an evil stepmom.
Here’s the thing. We think of our kids (and cats) first, most of the time. Sometimes we want things too, and don’t think about how it will affect the other members of the family. Sometimes we make changes, or the world makes changes (pandemic), and our kids (and cats) have to adjust. It doesn’t make us horrible. It doesn’t make us selfish. It makes us human. We get to apologize, and do it differently the next time.
A few days after the arrival of the new chairs, Stepson remarked that the folding chair he’s been using in his room was pretty uncomfortable. I suggested he take the odd one from the kitchen table, which he was happy to do. That evening, Angus the cat came into the kitchen looking for “his” chair. Thank goodness we had a spare one in the hallway.
